So Hollow
by forgetyouinsiberia
Summary: Ricky and Amy are trying to make it as parents and highschool students, while being new parents, and in a new relationship. Amy's not sure she can handle all Ricky has been and is going through. Ricky's not sure he's safe enough to be around anyone...
1. Can't Do This

A/N: I started this story the episode before the birth of John, and named the baby Ryan at that point. However, I've even managed to confuse myself as I work on future chapters, so I've edited this chapter so that the baby's name is John again.

It's taken me a while to get this chapter finished because I work and come back, work and come back, and so forth. So anyway,

_So Hollow_

_Chapter 1_

_Can't Do This_

Ricky looked down at the baby inside of the incubator, gulping. He was too afraid to even remotely move any closer to the baby. Everything around him seemed to burn in this anxiety, even Amy.

"M-my baby," Amy croaked softly, looking up at Ricky momentarily. He stood there, looking at her, and then back at the baby, frozen. Amy looked at him, confused. "Ricky, give me my baby," she spoke with a sense of order in her voice. Still, he stood rigid, not moving, barely even showing that he was breathing.

Amy forced herself to sit up, wincing a little bit, but she pushed through the pain. Her mother stood at the door, walking in as she realized he was unresponsive.

"Mom, what's wrong with him? Why won't he answer me?!" She gulped, scared to death. What was he doing? What if he attacked John?

Anne took several step forwards, gently placing a hand on Ricky's shoulder. A shiver rippled through him, but he didn't emotionally react.

Loren and Madison walked in the room, only long enough for Amy to bark at them. "Loren, get your dad!"

She dashed from the room, returning several minutes later with her father at her side. _"What's going on? Wha-" _He cut off in his sentence as he saw Ricky standing there like a statue.

"**Get down already!" Bob screamed in Ricky's face, pushing him back once more. **

**Shivers rattled through Ricky as he did as he was told, wincing as a belt slapped across his back again and again. "You'll never learn, will you!? You'll never learn to get it right!!!! I guess we'll just have to continue this for the rest of your damned life!!"**

**Ricky whimpered, shaking his head. He quickly regretted it as the belt caught his face, digging into and cutting his face. Bob's foot then connected into his ribs, throwing him into his bedpost. "I…hate you."**

Bob grabbed Ricky by the back of his neck, kicking him several times more before tossing him forward. His head crashed into the wall, leaving a slight dent, as Bob towered over him…

Rick gulped as things settled around him. Unconsciously, he realized, he'd been repeating the same two phrases over and over during the last few minutes. 'No. stop, please.'

Bob rounded the corner into the room, smirking as Ricky froze completely. Ricky's breath locked in his throat, not allowing him to breathe as he stared into the eyes of the man who had done this to him.

Lauren's father looked at her, asking who Bob was.

"NO!" Ricky screamed louder than he intended to, shaking like a leaf as he looked at Bob. He had that cold stare in his eyes that Ricky knew all too well.

"I suggest you get out of here, right now," Dr. Fields growled to Bob. Bob laughed, never taking his eyes off of Ricky.

"Ricky lies, alright? I don't know what he's told you, but it's not true. He acts all innocent, but he's far from it. Hell, he got a fifteen year old girl pregnant and then abandoned her. I just wanted to show my support to that particular girl. Alright!?" His words dripped with hatred as he finished his statement, attempting to stare Dr. Fields down.

"Yes, and that's why the boy has been has been in therapy for nine years," Dr. Fields hissed back. He hated this man already. All he and Ricky had worked on in almost a decade was quickly being torn to shreds.

Ricky stormed from the room, walking as fast as he could to get away, but half a dozen footsteps over powered the sound of his own, one set dangerously close. His eyes darted around for a door to run into, and luckily, he spotted one. He gulped, reaching forward quickly. As he reached the empty room, he turned to close the door, just as Bob reached the door.

He shoved Ricky easily backwards with one hand, and forced himself into the room, slamming the door shut and locking it. Ricky started to charge at him, but Bob elbowed him the ribs and then turned, hitting him repeatedly in the head and chest until Ricky finally fell to the floor, gasping for air.

Bob took the time free to move the large dresser against the door, blocking everyone out completely as it caught under the doorknob.

Ricky retched as Bob kicked him in the throat and then continued beating on Ricky. "Apparently I didn't teach you how to be a man, you little bitch!"

_"No! You touch that kid and you'll never see the light of day outside again!!!"_

Bob laughed at what they were screaming as Ricky tried to push away from him, but he held him tightly.

"**And finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, when I hated him so much that I didn't care if I lived or died, I told my teacher…"**

Ricky screamed in agony as fists connected with any part of his body that his father could get at, while also torturing his body in the most masochistic way possible. "No. I said no…I always say no," he whimpered softly.

He tried to remember his night with Amy; to remember what his son looked like. He didn't block out his pain well enough, however, as his father began smashing Ricky's head against the floor. He hit the baseboard on the wall multiple times however, slicing the front and left side of his head open. It ran down into his eyes, blinding him to what his _father _ was doing.

Ricky closed his eyes, resting his head against the floor as his father "finished", letting him go. He pulled a pocket knife from Ricky's jeans, flipping it out and walking back over to Ricky. He knelt down over his wounded son, holding the knife against Ricky's throat.

"This **ISN'T **done." With that, he lifted the knife, driving it into Ricky's right hip and dragging it over a few inches before he pulled the blade out, flipping it shut. Ricky buckled forward in agony, feeling blood flooding out of him, onto the floor and all over his boxers. Bob laughed, pushing the bed forward and overturning it on Ricky. It collapsed, dropping over his right leg which lay limply still on the ground. His father had paralyzed it some how.

Finally, Bob moved the dresser back to where it was, locking the door once more before he walked over to the window and hopped out…

In moments, cops had the door opened and Dr. Fields was at Ricky's side along with six doctors and several nurses. Anne, Ashley, Ben, Lauren, and Madison all stood at the doorway, watching in awe, and seeing Ricky in a true light for what seemed like the very first time. Lauren gulped, seeing her father in tears as he tried to calm his patient of almost six years.

"He….blood everywhere," Ricky mumbled, trying to move the oxygen mask off of his face.

Dr. Fields shook his head, placing his hand protectively over Ricky's. "Don't. Don't talk; Just breathe. You need the air."

Ricky shook his head, gulping. His throat hurt bad, and Dr. Fields knew why. Everyone knew now. "Cant…do this…."

"No. Don't you let go now. You've come too far to give up now. Don't you want your girl and your son," Dr. Fields tried to con him.

Ricky knew he was right. "Just….fix this,. Please," he spoke softly as they moved him onto the bed a nurse had brought to the door. Another doctor covered him with a blanket while two were trying to slow all the bleeding.

"Lets get him in for X-Rays and then into surgery, if needed…."

--------

But I'm,

So far,

So far from home,

So Far,

So far from home

--------

Ricky opened his eyes slowly, looking around the room. Amy was wrapped in blankets, watching him cautiously, as if she expected him to pounce, or lock up again. It took a moment for him to realize her mother was there too, helping to feed the baby. He exchanged a glance momentarily with Anne, and he knew in that small moment that she had told Amy what happened to him; how he'd screamed for help, and for Bob to stop. He was just stupid.

"Are you okay," Amy asked softly as she looked up at him. She as well, saw him clearly and in true light for what seemed to be the first time.

"No." Ricky spoke softly. It was rude maybe, but it was true. He was just numb to everything but pain. "Are you?"

Amy shrugged, feeding the baby again.

Ricky moved, pushing himself into a sitting position over the side of the bed. He was intent on seeing his son.

Anne quickly rushed to his side, grabbing a wheel chair from between the beds and placing it in front of Ricky's bed. She reached under his arms gently, helping him to stand on one leg as he hopped down and sat down in the wheel chair. "Are you crazy!? You have a broken wrist and a broken leg!" She settled the IV pole that held both the nutrient bag as well as two bags of blood, both running down into one of his two IV's. Finally, Anne pushed Ricky the several feet over to Amy's bed before moving out of the room, leaving the two to talk.

Amy gulped as Ricky slowly took the baby from her arms, holding the bottle in his mouth still. Amy took the moments to assess his wounds. Most of his arms were wrapped in gauze from stitches; Bob had somehow broken a mirror in the midst of his attack. Ricky's shoulder was taped up pretty thickly too, from a hairline fracture, the doctor had said.

"Wow," Ricky winced as he spoke, remembering what Bob made him do before. His chest and throat burned. "Hi. I'm you're dad."

Amy looked briefly to the door, and then back at Ricky, smiling. Seeing him now, she knew he would never do what has father had done to him. He was an amazing person who needed love and who needed a reason to live. "I'm sorry Ricky," she whispered.

He shrugged, looking at her for a nanosecond. "Its okay. Doesn't matter anymore. Only things that matter to me are you and him," he spoke softly.

Amy sighed, taking the bottle from Ricky as he handed it to her, lifting John to his shoulder and gently burping him.

"Can I ask you something?"

Ricky nodded slowly, trying to find a way to get comfortable. "Sure. What?"

"How do you do it? I mean, he almost killed you today." She stared at him in a sense of awe, honestly confused. "I just don't understand why you don't give up."

Tears brimmed Ricky's eyes as he looked at her. "I didn't care. Laying on the floor, I didn't care if I lived or died. But when they pushed me past the room, I heard him crying, and I needed to see him. Even though you love Ben and you want to marry him, I love you Amy. I love you and John, and I want to be with you." He paused, taking a drink of his water. His voice was raspy and fading.

"I love you, Amy. And that night at band camp, I was a different person. I didn't even love myself. I just wanted to feel loved. But that night was real for me, because, for the first time, I wasn't the only person scared."

He paused again, gauging her surprised reaction. "Yeah, I'm scared EVERY time I'm with a girl. EVERY. TIME, I'm with someone, I'm convinced it'll be the last time I'll do it. I'm-…I WAS, looking for self confidence and love. I had both, but I didn't see them. I'm still not sure I do. But I'm trying."

Amy nodded, watching as Ricky shushed the baby to sleep, She noticed a healing cut on his shoulder and gulped. "The truth is…Ben and I have been thinking about breaking it off. He knew we were into each other, and he's not sure he can handle this any longer."

Ricky didn't take his eyes off of his son as Amy spoke. He was still in awe over his son's features. The baby looked so much like the both of them, in the most perfect ways.

Amy sighed softly, watching Ricky and John for a few minutes until her eyes fell on several slashes across his shoulder. They didn't fit….Something was off. They were scabbed over and healing, in straight lines, unlike Bob's deep cuts he formed in his sons skin, they weren't curved. They were straight, and at least a quarter of an inch deep.

It struck her a moment later; he'd caused those cuts himself. He'd **cut** himself on purpose.

"Y-you…" Tears began to run down Amy's cheeks as she touched the scabs on Ricky's shoulder. He winced from the burning they still caused him, looking up at her. The look in her eyes told him she knew, and he couldn't hide it. Tears began to fall from his own eyes, and he laid John back on the bed with Amy, moving himself back.

Amy dove forward, however, pulling him back with Ryder on one arm. "No! Don't leave, please!" She wiped her tears away, settling back on the bed. "I just…I always thought you used sex to get past all of that."

Ricky shrugged. "Sometimes sex isn't an option."

Amy nodded, watching as Ricky wheeled himself around the bedside, over to where the incubator was set up. Amy handed John to him, and then Ricky laid John into the incubator, putting one of his fingers in his son's right hand, feeling him squeeze it.

"I want to be better, Amy. I want to stop everything and be better about it all. I swear," he spoke softly, looking up at her. She nodded, reaching up and wiping away a tear on his cheek. His skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and it was a pasty colour, due to loss of blood.

"You're burning up bad, Ricky," she spoke softly.

Before Amy could reach for the call button, her mother walked into the room and noticed Ricky's complexion as well. She walked over to him and moved the wheelchair back over to his bed before Ricky forced his body up into the hospital bed, curling into the blankets as shivered wracked through him.

"Mom, he-" Anne cut Amy off before she could flood into a freak out.

"His fever is because of his blood loss, Amy. He can't regulate his temperature yet." Anne explained softly.

Amy whimpered, shaking her head. She stood, moving the incubator into the middle ground between her and Ricky's beds. Her mother helped her before giving a her a quick hug, heading out for the night.

Once Anne was gone, Amy walked to the door, closing it 90 percent of the way and then turning the lights off. She then walked back over to Ricky, lying down next to him and wrapping her arms around him, hoping she could make him feel a little better. She could feel the soft whimpers coming from his chest as he remembered the days events, as well as the too many times it had happened before.

"Shhh, its okay. It's all gonna be okay," Amy tried to plead with him. After a while, she found herself humming a lullaby, and within no time, they were both asleep…

----

Don't lie and

Say that its okay

Its alright if

There's nothing more to say

----

Ricky awoke early the next morning to an empty bed. As he looked around, Amy was zipping up a bag, and fully dressed, obviously ready to get out of the hospital and get going home. John was still asleep in the incubator. They'd discussed his name shortly after he'd been born. Ricky's father had had a brother named John, who died when Ricky was six. When he'd been alive, he'd tried to get custody of Ricky. It never worked out.

Amy had decided on his middle name, James, because she'd simply always loved the name, she had told him. He was always open to what she wanted, or at least lately he had been. Coming to the conclusion that he loved her was far from easy. He'd questioned whether it was just the baby that he loved and he loved her for him, but even now, now that John was real, he didn't want to ever go back and change their time together. He was truly in love with Amy Juergens.

Ricky's brain focused once again in the present as he heard voices getting louder and louder outside the room.

"_You're staying with this guy because of an 'oops?!' Because of a stupid late-night mistake!?"_

Ricky as pretty sure the voice he heard was Ben's. His tone didn't surprise Ricky, however hearing his son called an 'oops' did. It also infuriated him.

Ricky pushed himself up from the bed, grabbing the IV pole and using it as a crutch as he hopped out to the hall, trying to use his other hand to keep his gown close through the back. "You wanna rip me apart, choose another day than this. And call me whatever you want, but don't you EVER call my son an 'oops' or a mistake!" He seethed, staring Ben down. Ben took several steps back, looking back and forth between Amy and Ricky for a minute before he finally walked away.

Ricky let out a sigh as he turned himself as best he could, using the wall as well as the IV pole to try and maneuver himself back into the room. Amy wrapped an arm under him, helping him to walk as soon as he was inside the room, and together they made it over to the bed. She sat down on the side of it as he got situated, pulling the blankets up in the right places so that he was comfortable.

"I'm sorry about that," Amy spoke softly. She didn't mean for argument to break out.

"Is not your fault," Ricky spoke softly. He looked back up at her after a moment, trying to keep himself composed. "So why're you going home?"

Amy groaned softly, taking left hand in both of her own. "My dad showed up this morning and flipped when he saw me sleeping next to you. He called my mom and she started yelling to, and now its an all-out war. I'll fix it though. I'll make them understand, and then I'll be back; I promise. You should have some time with John after you get some more rest. I heard the doctors saying you still need another two pints of blood to level your body out."

Ricky nodded wearily, knowing he needed that as well as something to satisfy his body. He felt weak physically, having not touched a bite of food in the three days he'd spent at the hospital.

Amy stood, squeezing his hand once more as her mother appeared at the door. "I promise, we'll be back. Get some rest."

Ricky nodded, closing his eyes sheepishly and pushing the button on the bed key pad to lower the head of the bed down. Someone turned the lights down a moment later, and mere minutes after that, he was out…

Ricky awoke to warm hands enveloping his again, and a small smile covered is face as he opened his eyes. "Amy…"

Adrian raised an eyebrow at him, surprised. "Um, no. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Ricky gulped, looking at her. "Sorry I-"

Adrian shook her head, moving a strand of hair out of her face. "Its fine." She crossed her arms uncomfortably, gulping. "Its like she chose you. Like…like you had nothing to do with it to begin with."

Ricky shook his head, sitting up. "I don't know why. I'm a damage case already happening."

"No you're not," Adrian dragged out, sitting down in the chair next to him. "You've been through a lot, yes, But that doesn't mean you're a damage case."

Ricky glared at her, shaking his head. "Don't tell me that. Don't tell me that when you have no idea what's going on with me."

Adrian groaned, twisting a strand of her hair. "That's because you don't talk to anyone, Ricky. I mean,…why all the girls, Ricky? Why?"

Ricky fussed with the tape over his IV line, not wanting to talk about it. "You wouldn't understand. Its personal, and too hard to talk about."

Adrian groaned, shaking her head at him. "It wont work forever, Ricky. Girls will get sick of you using them just for sex."

"Just leave, Adrian. I don't need to hear this right now." Ricky ordered.

"No, you need to hear this, Ricky. It's the facts and you need to know them," Adrian pressed.

A doctor knocked on the door of the room, stepping in a moment later. "Ricky needs to be resting right now, whether you think he needs to or not. His injuries alone are too traumatic for you to be arguing with him right now. So please, let it go, or leave."

Adrian nodded and looked down at Ricky, running a finger against one of the cuts on his shoulder. He obviously was dealing with more than even she knew.

_----_

_Laying alone with the history_

_That made you _

_Cold and uncertain inside_

_----_

Ricky knocked lightly on the Juergen's home, holding his shoulder as he did. The doctors had detected that the knife hadn't cut through any bone or muscle, thankfully, just tendons and tissue, so they'd simply covered both sides of his shoulder with gauze and taped it up nice and tight.

The door opened quickly, and he screamed as Ashley yanked him inside, hitting the floor on his shoulder. "God damnit!!!!"

Amy and George ran into the room at the sound of Ricky hitting the floor. Amy leaned down to help him, glaring up at Ashley. "You didn't need to throw him on the floor."

Ashley stared at Amy dumbly, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Yes, better to leave him sitting on the doorstep more than two seconds so the psychopath has time to get out of his car. You HAVE seen When A Stranger Calls, right?"

Ricky sat up slowly, looking at Ashley with slight annoyance. "I can fight him off for more than two seconds. However, when I get beaten up like yesterday, I tend to bleed enough to DIE," he pressed at her.

"That's enough," George ordered the three of them, walking over to Ricky, he extended both hands to Ricky's good arm. "Pull your weight from your waist and legs."

Ricky did as he was told and made it to his feet with no problem. Amy yawned sheepishly, running her fingers through her hair. "John is sleeping, so I'm gonna go lay down."

Ricky nodded, letting Anne take his bag from him that the doctor had sent home with him. It was loaded with packets of information, pain meds, steroids, and antibiotics to fight infection. "Your parents are okay with you staying here," Anne asked softly.

Ricky shrugged. "I told them I won't be coming back. Its not safe when he's around and the kids there have already suffered enough. They don't need me adding to it, especially not like this."

Anne looked at George and nodded. "I spoke with your mother this morning, and while she'd rather you were there, she understands and the court seems to agree with you."

"And whether you'd agree or not, its probably best for you to be here. You need to be resting and taking time to lick your wounds," George added. "No school, no work, limited work with John until your shoulder is healed."

Ricky rolled his eyes, not used to the hovering parent act. "Sorry, I just….I'm not used to this."

"What, love?" George scoffed. Anne slapped his shoulder, glaring at him. "You need to have your bandages changed before you go to bed, so come into the kitchen and I'll get them changed for you."

Ricky looked at both George and Anne warily, gulping. "I don't…I don't know."

Anne nodded, walking up to him. "You're okay. You're safe here."

Amy walked out of the kitchen, looking at Ricky. His eyes begged her to help him get out of the house, away from people, away from everything. "Ricky, it's okay. No one here will hurt you."

He backed away from everyone until he was up against the door, and slid down against it, "No, I can't. No, no, no, no." Ricky hid his face between his knees, shaking with fear as he sat there.

Amy looked to her parents, who looked at each other and then back to Ricky. Anne walked over to Ricky, kneeling near him. She reached out to touch his shoulder and he scooted over, shaking his head. "D-don't. Just please don't. No more touching, no more touching."

Amy's chin began to tremble as she watched him, seeing him fall apart in front of her. "R-Ricky. Please."

"I can't. Burns, it burns, it burns." He kept his face buried, not moving.

"We can sit here with you all night, if that's what you need." Anne offered.

Ricky shook his head, not saying a word more. Silent sobs were the only sounds he emitted following that.

Amy moved from the stairs, next to Ricky. She gently reached out to take his hand, but he shifted away from even her, as if he could lock a bubble around him.

Amy eventually drifted to sleep still sitting on the floor by Ricky, but he still sat there, tearfully curled into a ball. Occasionally his sobs picked up or slowed down, but he made no move to let anyone help him. Surprisingly, it was Anne and George together, who slowly brought him from his shell. George had carried Amy up to her bed, much like he had years earlier when she was just a little girl; and then he returned downstairs, kneeling down next to Ricky.

It took everything in him gently reach out to Ricky and not grip his shoulder, but simply touch him. Unlike how he had reacted continuously in the last few hours, he didn't recoil away. Ricky slowly lifted his head away from his arms, looking up at the man he only knew as Amy's father.

"Good lord. How could this have happened," he spoke rashly. Ricky shook with fear, looking down at his wrapped hands, soaked from his tears. Anne reached up and gently wiped something from Ricky's face. George looked at what it was, then back at Ricky. "You need to calm down. You're bleeding tears now."

"_You're pathetic, you know that. You'll just do anything to get away from me, won't you," Angela screamed at her son. She lashed the yardstick across Ricky's face, leaving a cut next to his eye, nearly cutting the lid open. "Bleeding tears, REALLY!? What a fucking lie."_

"Ricky? Ricky!?"

He shook, frightened as he came out of the flashback and looked at Amy's parents.

"Oh my God. She beat you too," Anne spoke softly. Her sorrow for her grandson's father suddenly began shifting to rage at his biological mother. She didn't understand how a mother could beat her only son. Those kind of people had always terrified her; she always worried about her girls having friends who were abused because she didn't want them to have to see that kind of pain. But now she pretty much had an abused child living in her home, and he was the father of her grandson. That mere fact horrified her even more.

Ricky gasped at a sharp pain in his side, curling over with his arms wrapped around him. Anne slowly stood, moving down the hall, and George moved slowly behind her, carrying a writhing and obviously surprised Ricky as he did. Once they were in the kitchen, George set Ricky on the counter, grimacing at the sight of blood on the boy's shirt. "Anne…"

She grabbed several things out of the messenger bag the hospital had sent home with Ricky and walked over to the island, setting them down. "Are you fond of this shirt, Ricky," she spoke quickly.

"I guess not-" Ricky barely finished the sentence before Anne began cutting the shirt up the side of the inseam on the arm. In less than a minute, she had it off of his washboard body.

"Residual bleeding is normal, George. He's got multiple stab wounds," Anne surmised.

"Sick son of a bitch. Who does this to their own child," George growled.

"I hate him," Ricky whimpered, trying to keep a slight distance between George and himself. George reached to pull Ricky's jeans down enough to change the gauze on his side. "Don't TOUCH ME!" Ricky screamed, pushing George back and pulling his already loose jeans tightly against his body. Anne glared at George, handing him Neosporin while she rounded the island and continued what George had tried to start.

It took everything inside of her to not feel sick right in that moment as she removed the gauze from Ricky's side and saw the jagged stitches, and the dozens of scars that coated his skin. Her hands shook as she re-bandaged his side and wiped away the blood on his skin. Afterwards, she walked over to the fridge and got out a bottle of water while George counted out the different meds they'd sent home with him.

"Two painkillers every twelve hours, and these will probably knock you out," he spoke forwardly. "Three antibiotics to fight off various infections…"

Anne shook her head, taking one of the painkillers away from George. "He's already at risk of seizures from losing so much blood. There's no need to add a med that comes with that as a side affect. Then there will be no way to tell."

"Just give me something? Please," Ricky begged, tears brimming his eyes again. He nursed his side, but the more obvious pain was his shattered leg.

Anne walked over to Ricky and handed him the pills along with a bottle of water; he gulped them down without a moments thought before moving off of the counter with the help of one of the chairs against it.

"How's the dexterity of your hands," Anne asked softly, following slowly behind him as he tried to climb the stairs with just one limb.

"Crap. I guess it's the price of having a knife through your shoulder on one side, and having the other pinned to the floor by a sawed off IV pole," Ricky admitted. His hands weren't even able to hold the steering wheel while he'd been driving, and he had had to force them against the wheel to keep it from driving without him.

"I honestly don't understand how you're moving with a broken leg and useless arms," Anne spoke, astonished.

Ricky laughed as he used his elbows to move himself up each step. "I learned ways to move around when I was two and had two broken collarbones."

Anne shook her head at him, not able to keep herself from smiling at his own childish but obviously drugged smirk. "George, come carry this kid to the guest room before he hurts himself falling asleep on the stairs."

George smirked as he stepped past Anne, planting a kiss on her forehead as he swiped Ricky up from the stairs and carried him up to the spare bedroom, simply laying him down instead of trying to help him change for fear of the kid biting him; literally. He left the door cracked open and stepped across the hall, turning the bathroom light on before walking away.

Meanwhile, Ricky wearily managed to kick his pants off half way off before he completely faded from consciousness…


	2. Surviving 101

**A/N: Due to the fact that I keep confusing myself AND since we're only in chapter two… x) I find it easier to just keep John's name John. I will replace chapter one so that it's all edited.**

**Furthermore, I have set up a blog on blogger that I'll also be posting the story on, but the blog will be more interactive, as I'll post banners, videos, and play lists related to the story as I make them. I also intend to post other SLOTAT stories I write as I get to them (Currently I'm only working on 2.) I will keep posting here, but I hope that some you at least check out the blog. You'll be able to see the banner and the video already made surrounding the story. I'm working on the play list for it. The blog name is Repeating Echoes. The link name is silentechoeschasing.**

**That would be followed with blogspot. com**

**Hope you check out !**

_Chapter 2_

_Surviving, 101_

Ricky managed to somehow hobble down the stairs on one leg and grab a bottle of water from the fridge before settling on the floor against the counter. It was after 3 AM, but everyone had fallen asleep hours ago, and it didn't take long for the pain medication to wear off. He'd managed to sleep through the fading of the medication, but once it was completely worn off, he was wide awake.

Ricky's head shot up as he heard creaking on the stairs, and then he saw a reflection in a flashlight light. The scaled reflection gave away that I was George and that one fact ensured him he was probably in trouble just for being out of bed. He exhaled heavily, taking another drink from his water bottle as George came around the side of the island and flashed the flashlight on him.

"How in the world did you manage to get down here on your own," George spoke clearly, wide awake.

Ricky shrugged as best he could, setting his water bottle on the floor. "I hopped. The meds wore off and I can't sleep. Whoever thought they could manage my pain with Vicodin was nuts. I only slept for two hours."

George simply sat there, watching him and listening to him, which did nothing to keep Ricky awake, though he was aching in pain, he was still extremely exhausted.

_Ricky stood in the main hallway of the school, feeling infuriated. His fists were clenched as he stared into the guidance office, seeing Dr. Fields and Bob Underwood screaming at each other. Everyone in the hall had stopped talking when they had seen Lauren's father come through the door; they all knew he was a therapist, and after last year, everyone knew about Ricky's past, too. _

_His anger turned into total hate as Bob exited the Guidance office and stared at him like he was something to destroy. _

"_Its… I'm never gonna be screwed up enough for you, am I? I'm never going to be too damaged for you to realize that you've done enough; not until I'm dead, right? Because, I'm dead inside, I can't feel anything other than pain and hate, and you're still here. You just…don't care."_

_Ricky's stomach twisted as he stared at his 'father', waiting for his response. Everyone was still crowded in the hallways, still standing in the same places, but there might as well have been no one, considering how quiet it was. _

_Bob Underwood took three steps forward and grabbed Ricky by the side of the head, slamming it into the locker behind him twice before throwing him to the floor. "I wish you'd died."_

Ricky awoke in a cold sweat, this time with Ashley standing in front of him. He'd somehow been transported back to the guest bedroom, which was plenty warm, but still, he was freezing.

As his eyes adjusted, he looked back at Ashley, suddenly apologizing with everything in the book, figuring he'd woke her up.

"Its fine; I was already awake. I heard you screaming," she told him softly. "My dad said when you woke up you might need more pain medication, so I figured I'd wait up for that to happen."Ricky shook his head at her as she handed him the painkillers and his bottle of water from earlier that night. "You didn't have to do that. I could've sucked it up a few more hours. I have before."Ashley shrugged, taking the bottle of water from him when he was finished, and setting it on the nightstand. "Well, my dad's stronger than I am, and he finally went to bed after sitting outside for like two hours."

"Bob is still out there," Ricky asked groggily. Ashley nodded, getting up and walking over to the window. Sure enough, the green car was sat across the street.

Screams filled the hallway and Ashley groaned, holding her head in her hands. "Amy please, get up," she spoke softly, only talking to herself. Ricky looked at her, wishing he could go to his son so Amy wouldn't have to do this all on her own. God only knew how long it would be until he'd be able to help her.

"I'm sorry. If I wasn't so screwed up, I'd be able to help her," Ricky admitted. He honestly believed that everything that was going wrong right now was actually his fault.

"You don't have to be sorry."Her voice was soft, and groggy as she stepped in the doorway, holding the baby in her arms. Ricky looked up, seeing Amy as she stepped into the room. She padded over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to him. She moved so slowly and gently, she barely touched his arms as she laid Ryan in them. Ricky adjusted him lightly, but he was amazed at how quickly this little creature had calmed, just by being by him. After all, he considered himself a freak of nature. Is not like his parents had wanted him in the first place.

"I don't know why, but he seems drawn to you. Like he knows," Amy spoke softly.

Ricky smiled softly at her, gently running his forefinger against Ryan's cheek. His body was sore and it ached, but seeing his son made him feel a world better.

Amy walked out of the room suddenly, leaving Ricky and Ashley to tend to Ryan. Ricky's gaze quickly moved to Ashley, begging her to take Ryan.

"Why? He's fine. Look, he's already back to sleep," Ashley assured him.

"No, no no," Ricky spoke quickly, holding Ryan away from him. "Please just take him. I'll hurt him or something. I don't want to do that. Please!" His pleas became more dramatic as he glared at Ashley begging, pleading her to take Ryan from him.

Amy returned a moment later with a bottle, seeing Ricky fretting, literally shaking with Ryan in his arms. "What're you doing!?"

She snatched Ryan from Ricky's arms, holding him close to her chest, as if those few moments had cause so much damage to her still sleeping son.

"Amy, he wasn't trying to shake Ryan, he was scared," Ashley blurted quickly, rounding the bed. "Look he's not even hurt. He's shaking because he's scared, not because he wants to hurt Ryan."

Ricky gulped, shaking his head at himself. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying…I just didn't expect you to leave him here with me. I can't care for a baby right now. I can't even care for myself."

Amy nodded after a moment, seeing that he was telling the truth. "Well, I guess we should all get back to bed before mom or dad knows we're all awake. Ash, you have school tomorrow, don't you," Amy asked.

Ashley shrugged, twisting her hair between her fingers. "If creepy ever leaves the curb outside the house. You know how mom is now that Ryan's here."Amy pursed her lips, staring at the wall. "Yeah."

Anne had been on a tighter reign ever since they'd gotten home, telling Amy not to do certain things with Ryan. She knew her mother was only trying to teach her how to care for her son, but a part of her felt like her mom was just trying to do all the parenting on her own; something she'd told Amy she didn't want to do.

Ashley looked over Amy's shoulder at Ryan's sleeping face and smiled, kissing the baby's forehead before she walked out of the room, mumbling a goodnight over her shoulder as she did.

Amy looked back up at Ricky, who clearly wasn't looking like he would be falling asleep any time soon. Truthfully, Amy was exhausted after the day she'd had. She'd been woken at 7 AM by the hospital staff to have breakfast, and just as she'd finished, Ryan had woken so she'd had to feed him, and then pack to go home. Her whole day had been hectic, not including how things had taken a turn after Ricky arrived. She tried not to be frustrated at him, but a part of her just wanted to fall asleep.

She knew a relationship took work though. And they certainly had a lot of work to do. She just wished since he was awake he could take care of Ryan.

Amy walked over to the bed, sitting on the opposite side of where Ricky was laying, and she laid Ryan between them, so he was nestled safely, but wouldn't be smothered. "I can stay here, if you'd like," Amy spoke genuinely.

Ricky smiled at her, nodding. "That'd be nice. I can watch him if you'd like me to. You can sleep."Amy shook her head, watching Ricky as he stared down at Ryan in wonder. "Your silence scares me," Amy admitted. "It scares me that I've done something wrong to scare you or make you have one of those…flashbacks?"Ricky looked up at her, swallowing hard and nodding. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I can't control them. They just happen when they're…I guess you could say brought on.""Triggered, you mean," Amy asked.

Ricky nodded again. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

Amy rolled her eyes, smiling at him. "Remember, I did get myself informed when I found out about everything."

Ricky nodded, remembering when Lauren had pretty much told the entire school about his past. He had intended on telling Amy, if and when she had intended on keeping the baby, but he had never been sure quite how to go about it. But as many bad things go, he didn't get the chance because someone spilled it before he could. "Look, Amy, I was gonna tell you, I just-"

She shook her head, reaching up and touching his cheek. He winced as her fingers brushed against the bruise on his jaw line. "I never cared that you didn't tell me. Truthfully I've pretty much lived the storybook childhood, and up until my parents started having problems, there wasn't any major shifts in my life. But I understood that you didn't tell me. I didn't even know I was going to keep John then. We didn't even know if we even remotely liked each other then," she explained. "It may have been enough to send me running the other way had it been before then. Everything was hectic, I didn't want to come back to school, I wanted to run away and leave town. So I don't blame you."

Ricky kissed the inside of her palm, smiling lightly, though it cause him physical pain. "Thank you."

"It just….it hurts me, when you get emotional when people show you any amount of affection. I mean I know its because you're not used to it, but its just not fair. You should be able to feel like you at least deserve it a little."

Ricky shrugged at her statement, looking down at John again. "Why? You were fifteen, barely entering high school and I got you pregnant. Not only that, but I was still sleeping around with other girls. I've clearly made no effort to work with my shrink up to this point. And yet I deserve to be happy? No, Amy, I don't think I do. I think I deserve everything I got yesterday, and more. I've changed your life completely, and I don't deserve to have you or your family helping me right now."

Amy sighed heavily, laying down on her side of the bed, staring at the window. "You're wrong Ricky. Some way, some how, I'll prove that to you. You're a good person and you deserve to be loved. Everyone does."Ricky gave up defeat against her argument, knowing he wouldn't get through to her, but still believing she was wrong. He was too exhausted to keep fighting with her. "Are you staying up," he spoke softly.

Amy shrugged, watching John sleep once again. Ricky shifted in the bed so that he was lying on his chest, and rubbed his face against the pillow, as if it could stop the throbbing or itching from the stitches. "I can't stay awake any longer," he mumbled as he closed his eyes. He felt Amy shift and she kissed the side of his head before taking his hand and holding it in her own. He opened his eyes one more time, seeing that her eyes were closed, and he closed his as well, wearily hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before life had to start again in the day-light.

_I think I love you, Amy Juergens. But I don't think I can ever tell you that…_


	3. Well, You're Not

AN: **Hey guys. I apologize for the long wait on chapter 3, but I've been pretty busy with school and my personal life, plus friend drama. In the mean time though, I've come up with a few one-shot ideas that I plan to write soon. But not to worry, I plan to have chapter 4 to you soon and not to take so long next time I update. I'm very proud of this chapter, and if you feel like giving constructive criticism, please feel free. **

**I would like to note though, that the story Amy tells near the end of the chapter is a personal one, and very real, although of course I changed some things to fit the story/show. That is one of the reasons why (at least I believe why) my writing comes off so raw and real; because it is, and I find it very relateable and easier to understand this way.**

**Without furtherado, I do hope you enjoy, and remember this while you're reading because it embraces the entire situation Ricky is in with his father, and everything he's being forced to go through. It can apply to anything really, but I think they're words to live by ----**

_What I've done, is not who I'll be. _

_Chapter 3_

_Well, You're Not_

It was late afternoon by the time Ricky woke again. He'd remembered drifting in and out of consciousness a few times, when Amy had woken up to take care of John, and then some people had stopped by to visit, but he couldn't even muster the energy to open his eyes. When someone had brought him painkillers -- he couldn't even remember who it had been, either George or Anne, he guessed -- he couldn't even hold his own head up.

His body ached with a new pain, feeling as if someone had beaten him with a metal pole while he was sleeping. Ricky moved slowly as he moved off the bed, pulling on a pair of track pants someone must've dropped by for him. As usual though, he still layered a vest over a long-sleeved shirt, pulling it down tight against his washboard body.

Sitting back against the bed, he tried to figure out how he'd make it down the stairs. The doctors had told him until his arms healed, they didn't want him to use crutches, which basically left him hopping everywhere and praying he didn't slip.

Ashley must've been reading his mind, because she pushed the door open and extended her hand to him. "Want some help?"

Ricky raised an eyebrow at her, smirking lightly. "What're you watching me now?"

Ashley laughed sarcastically, shaking her head. "No. There's a baby monitor right there," she pointed to the nightstand next to the bed. "Once we all got up this morning, Amy took John downstairs so you could rest without disturbance...And so we could hear you if you fell out of bed or something."

Ricky rolled his eyes, not used to being 'babied', and stood, putting most of his weight on his right leg. "I think I can manage to get down the stairs on my own. Just spot me incase I slip," he spoke softly, hopping past her towards the stairs. Ashley followed closely behind him, keeping a few steps above him as he hopped down the staircase, using his forearms to hold his weight, though his doctor would probably bitch at him for it in the long run. Ashley helped him to his feet when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

Dr. Fields and Amy sat across the room, full-fledged in a conversation. They all looked up as he entered the room, putting most of his weight on his one leg still. Dr. Fields stood and gave Ricky a once-over, shaking his head at the myriad of bruises covering Ricky's body that they could actually see. Only God knew how many there actually were...And maybe the hospital staff. "How're you feeling?"

Ricky shrugged, letting Ashley help him over to a chair at the table. It was a chair that also worked as a rocker, something George and Anne had bought for Amy before John had been born. "You don't have to baby me," Ricky spoke softly as he sat down in the chair, thankful that it leaned back at a 30 degree angle. His head hurt as it was, and at least he wouldn't have to sit straight up.

"This is how you should've been treated all your life, Ricky," Dr. Fields spoke softly. "NOT getting beat on and sexually abused, but being cared for when you're sick and hurt, and left to rest when you need it most."

Ricky shook his head, feeling his throat getting tight. He didn't want to show this kind of emotion in front of the Juergens. He had already caused so many problems for them. He didn't want to cause more.

"We want to look into making the Juergens' your guardians while you're staying here. They seem to be open to it, and it would give you more freedom with seeing your son," as well as less hassle with the medical visits while you're recuperating," Dr. Fields explained.

Ricky listened to him warily, becoming tense at the idea of living with the Juergens. That would put the whole family in danger. "I don't know. Everything's so unsafe right now."

Dr. Fields huffed at Ricky, knowing this was coming. "If you don't go along with this, Ricky, you've got nowhere to go. We can't admit you anywhere, and your mother and I have spoken with everyone we could think of today. Its either this, or nothing. On the street, dealing with Bob, which I refuse to see happen."

"I won't put an innocent family at risk! He's pissed enough that we didn't give John up for adoption!" Ricky fumed, pushing himself out of the chair. "I'll figure something else out, I'll leave town if I have to. This is ridiculous. People don't need to be in danger because of me."

Amy gulped, standing up in front of him with John in her arms. "You're just gonna leave? That's your solution? Leave me and your son, and pray you die in the long-run?"

Ricky shook his head at her, cupping her cheeks. "There are things I can't even tell you. And yes, I'd rather risk my life than yours, or see you or your family hurt by him."

Amy shook her head at him, feeling tears burning in her eyes. "But I..."

Ricky shook his head, closing his eyes. "Don't say that. Please." He stepped back away from her, looking down at John, who stared back up at him. He cooed softly, gripping Ricky's finger in his tiny hand.

"You're not going anywhere when you can't even stand on two feet," George ordered. "And I won't hit you, but I certainly know other ways of infuriating you and lighting a fire under you."

Dr. Fields smiled as he watched George's authority with Ricky. It was always something that he'd wished Ricky's foster parents had been that way with him, but they were too careful with him because of everything he was forced to deal with.

"No! I'm 16, and if I can get a girl pregnant, I can make my own decisions-" George cut him off, pushing him back down into the rocker.

"NO. You can't even hold your own balance, you're not going ANYWHERE. You're grounded to this house unless you're at the Bauman's or the hospital. Any dates that you two make are confined to this house. The doors will be double-bolted at all times, and we're having a security system installed later today. I get that you're used to needing to take care of yourself and run everything, but that's not how things work now. People care about you. So just STOP."

Amy stared at her father in awe at his controlling manner, a way she'd only had him react with her once or twice before, but definitely not something she was used to.

"Wow."

Everyone's head turned to see Ashley standing in the stairwell, clearly having just heard everything her father said. She shrunk back only slightly at everyone looking at her. "What? Like you weren't thinking it to..."

Ricky huffed and stood, making his way back towards the stairs. Amy tried to follow behind him, but his reaction was enough to make her step off.

He turned around, looking at her with a mix of unrelenting pain, fear, and anger. "DON'T."

After saying that one word, Ricky turned and walked back up the stairs, leaving the Juergens standing in the kitchen, dumbfounded.

Dr. Fields only stood there a moment longer, before heading up the stairs behind Ricky, following him straight back to the guest bedroom. He closed the door gently before turning around to a fuming Ricky, self-destructing right before him. "Stop! STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!!!!!!"

Dr. Fields simply stood there, letting Ricky scream. He knew his screaming had nothing to do with himself, but everything to do with his own anguish over what his father had forced him not only to be put through just three days earlier, but also the memories and flashbacks bombarding him now that he'd been put in this position.

"I can't do this, I can't. I can't handle it, I can't cope with this, I can't..." Ricky shook his head, breathing hard, anything to catch his breath.

Dr. Fields shook his head, though Ricky didn't see him do it. "You've made it this far, you can keep making it."

Ricky looked up at him, looking at him like he was nuts. "I don't COPE. I suffer until I'm too exhausted to say anything anymore, and then I fall asleep, and it starts all over again the next day."

Dr. Fields walked over to the bed and sat down on it. "Then you do a great job at faking it for everyone. And you know if you took off, you would kill that girl on the inside. It's clear how much the two of you love each other, no matter how long you tried to deny it."

"She still deserves better," Ricky pointed out.

The door swung open and Ricky looked up to see Amy standing there with tears in her eyes. "I don't. Maybe I don't know everything about you, but you don't know everything about me either. There's a lot that we don't know about each other."

Dr. Fields looked at Amy for a moment, seeing the same look in her eyes that he knew all too well from Ricky. "Amy-"

Amy shook her head, and turned away, walking down the hall to her room and kicking the door shut behind her. She leaned against the wall, holding John against her chest as she bit back tears threatening to break through. She rocked back and forth holding back the sobs that were threatening to break through her throat....

_She loves to dance in the dark…_

Ricky lifted the water jug in front of him, pouring himself a glass of water. The steps creaked and he looked up, seeing Amy with the baby monitor in her hands. He walked around the counter and sat down at the table, flipping open one of the many binders he had sitting there.

Amy walked over to the table, sitting the monitor down in the middle, and sitting down next to Ricky. She grabbed one of the folders from the middle of the table, flipping it open.

Ricky looked up at her after a minute, and then stood. "I don't...." He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't know a lot about you; that you were right about. But there are things you don't know either, Amy. Things not even my therapist doesn't know."

Amy stood, looking Ricky clear in the eyes. "I know I don't know everything about you. But juts because I don't doesn't mean I can't love you. I spent too much time denying it, and..." She shook her head, looking at him, straight forward. "I don't want to go back."

Ricky looked down at the floor, and then back up at her. "I need you to understand why I feel this. Why, why didn't want to know how you felt. Why I begged Ben not to break up with you months ago. Because I knew if you were single, there'd be nothing to stop me from telling you how I felt, and I didn't want that option. There's too much that could hurt you. Too much that you could get wrapped up into."

Amy tried to grab his eyes, grab his attention, but he kept his gaze on the floor, the wall, everywhere but her.

"I can't open every door in my life because there are too many things that would come flooding out, and...I HATE that look of pity when people find out."

Amy touched the side of his face, feeling her bottom lip tremble. "I'm sorry."

Ricky shook his head, looking up at her. "Don't be sorry. I hate those words." He paused for a moment, looking at her, feeling his chest tighten. "My first memory...The first thing I can remember in my life, is being three years old in the backseat of a rundown car that my parents had us living in. My mother was off buying drugs or selling herself, I don't know...But Bob, he..." Ricky stopped, feeling the memory hit him like a ton of bricks, wiping him out in a pain that ached so hard, he couldn't push it out. "That's the earliest thing I can remember. Being assaulted in a car with no one to save me." He looked at her clearly in the eyes as tears ran down his cheeks.

Amy sighed, shaking her head. "I hate him the more you tell me about him."

Ricky looked up at her, wiping the tears away that sat on his face. "That's just one of the many reasons I don't want you opening your life up to me, Amy. I don't want to do those same things to John. There's a lot of time when I question if the way I care about our son...if its wrong."

Amy shook her head, cupping Ricky's face in her hands. "It's not. I can see it by the way you hold him, and take care of him."

He looked at her clearly in the eyes, seeing the truth in them. She had never lied to him the past, but still, he struggled to believe her.

Amy stepped back and looked down at the table, seeing all the work they still had to do. "Well, we should get to work," she spoke quickly.

Ricky shook his head, lifting her face to look at him. "Something's wrong with you. I knew it was when you lost it outside that bedroom. There's something you didn't want to say."

Amy shrugged, looking over at the wall. "Its nothing," she lied. "It's old and its over with. I'm fine."

Ricky stared hard at her. "Don't give me that 'it's old' shit. I, of all people, know that time doesn't make a damn difference when someone has hurt you that way." He continued to stare at her, seeing her facial features change as she tried to not let what he was saying affect her. He stepped back after a second, looking down at the table, where he had a paper he was writing for class on his family.

"At first its just flashes," he started. "And those scare the hell out of you. Because you forget about it for so long, that you think you're just fooling yourself or your mind is making something up to play with your head.

And then it continues. And the flashes are a few seconds later. You remember smells, colours, things that were in the room. Things people said. A dish hitting the floor makes you jump because you remember the glass hitting the wall and breaking into pieces as it hit the floor. And you remember what that glass felt like on your skin.

So you stop talking. You figure if you don't say anything to anyone about it, it'll just go away, and you'll forget." He stopped again, making Amy look at him dead on. "But it doesn't. It doesn't go away. The memories don't stop. They get worse, and worse, and worse, until you're in full fledged flashbacks and you're crying so hard you can't breathe, but still you don't want to tell anyone because it will change everything."

A sob escaped her and Ricky wrapped his arms as tightly around her as he could, rubbing her back. She muttered half incoherent things through sobs, shaking as she clung to him, practically pulling his shirt from him.

He soothed her the best he could, though he knew it was nothing like how it would have been if it just hadn't happened. Clearly, no one knew.

Amy looked up at him after a moment, and then at the floor again. "My...my cousin. My parents were out one night a couple of years ago and, he was staying the night. And he wanted to play truth or dare, and I...I don't know, he said I had to share my room with him because my parents said he couldn't be in the guest room that night. But when he....finished, he left...He just left! I begged, and I said...I..."

Ricky felt his chest tighten as he caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. "You said no."

She nodded, looking to her left at him. He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her against his chest as she worthlessly tried to slow her tears....

_If I'm a bad person, you don't like me  
Well I guess I'll make my own way…_

After he'd managed to soothe her enough that her sobs became whimpers, he'd carried her up to her bedroom, where she'd proceeded to tell him that her bedroom was originally the guestroom, and that the room she was now in had been Ashley's. She had willingly sacrificed smaller space for a room full of putrid memories. That alone had made the decision for him that the minute he got the chance, he'd be moving everything into her room. Clearly neither of them would be having sex, with each other or anyone else for that matter, for a long, long time. Ricky could tell just by how scared she was, that she wasn't ready to tell her parents, and that was the last thing he wanted to force her to do.

He'd run for so long from the idea of telling anyone, and as long as she had him there, he knew she was safe.

Ricky watched Amy sleep as she laid next to him, and sighed, staring at her laptop screen in front of him. She'd borrowed it to him so that he could finish his paper and edit it properly while she rested. But instead of working on it, he was fighting the idea of deleting it and starting all over again. He hated being bare, raw, and open to his teachers, but every year it was the same thing; write about your family to give us an introduction. Every year he had to add even more of the horrifying information that truthfully, no one **wanted **to know, but some of them probably _needed _to know.

**Its late and its dark, and the car lights are flashing on my window. The thunder outside is rumbling so hard that the house is shaking, and I'm begging God to strike me down now instead of putting me through this ordeal for the second time. **

**The first time was in the backseat of his car. At least that's the first time I can remember it happening. Maybe it was before that. Anyway, he swore it wouldn't be the last time, and when he said it, I knew he'd meant it. Bob Underwood never lied about things he was going to do with or to his family. **

**It was on that night, by the time the clock struck midnight and I was crying on my bedroom floor, begging God that this wasn't real, that I would just wake up and this would all be a dream. I had realized that this was what my life would become, and there was no going back; no one to save me from my own personal hell.**

Ricky groaned, reminding himself that this wasn't his computer, so he couldn't throw it across the room. But just the same, the idea of anyone reading it scared the hell out of him. What if someone read the first few words of it when he handed it in, and spread it all over school? What if someone stole it and sent it to the newspaper? What if, what if, what if. He had so many fears about people knowing everything that happened to him, and he had only added that first line because he had promised himself many, many years ago that if he ever told someone, then he wouldn't keep it a secret any longer.

Amy whimpered next to him and opened her eyes slowly, looking up from the view of his bruised torso, to his face. "How long was I asleep?"

Ricky shrugged, looking at the clock on her computer. "Only about an hour. John's still sleeping too, so…" He closed the computer and set it down, laying down more so on the bed with her. "You still look tired."

Amy nodded, resting her head gently on his shoulder. He cuddled her closer, silently telling her it was okay to apply pressure. "I am. Rest with me?"

He nodded back her, kissing her forehead. She smiled and breathed in his natural scent while he wrapped his fingers in hers and rested his head against the side of hers, closing his eyes. He only prayed that they could forget about their own pain in the next few hours….


	4. Suffer Me Softly Destroy Me Silently

A/N: Okay, so the end of this chapter was actually not foreseen until I actually got to it, but I'm quite proud of the idea and it will all be explained. I do plan on starting the new chapter once I get this posted because I don't want to lose the idea in my head. I'm sorry for the long wait on this chapter as well as the last one and I thank you guys for being so patient. I've got a few oneshots in the works, plus 2 new stories that I've been working on. I've also got another plot in mind, but I'm not sure if I'll be writing that story just yet or not because I haven't really worked out too many details on it.

Also, I've had a few comments about time slices. Whenever I have I italicized lyrics that don't fit into the actual flow of what's going on, that's what signifies a time break. I'm sorry if I confused anyone; that's just how I've always written.

Anyway, please enjoy this chapter, and reviews are always lovely!

_Chapter Four_

_Suffer Me Softly; Destroy Me Silently_

Ricky stared at the ceiling as beads of sweat ran down his neck, shivering still from the nightmare that had awoken him almost half an hour earlier. Amy was still sleeping silently next to him, and he hadn't had the heart to wake her up after everything she'd expulsed to him earlier. The truth was, he had half-expected Anne or George to flip when they'd seen them sleeping cuddled up, but he couldn't even remember them getting home.

The clock ticked back and forth across the room, and for the first time since he'd woken up, it dawned on him that Amy's breathing was the only breathing he heard besides his own. His heart thumped an extra beat and raced into panic mode as he threw himself off the bed and hopped his way out of the room, down the stairs to the kitchen. Ricky dropped against the steps as he saw John rocking back and forth in the swing near the table.

Anne and George both looked up at him in that moment, and clearly had looks of worry on their face. "It's almost 11 PM. What're you doing awake?"

Ricky rubbed his eyes wearily, as if that could remove the sleepiness from them. "Whatdoyoumean?" He slurred.

"I mean I came up stairs three hours ago to give you pain meds and you were barely conscious enough to even swallow them," George spoke clearly to him, though everything else swirled around him.

Ricky just stared at the floor, trying to let everything settle around him, but the swirling only seemed to get worse. "I um...I've been awake for a while. Nightmares, you know."

Anne looked to George, and then back at Ricky, walking over to where he was sitting on the stairs. "Are you feeling okay, Ricky?"

He shrugged, looking up at the clock. "I'll be fine, I'm just a little woozy."

George looked to Anne and then stood, walking out of the room.

Anne walked over to the landing, handing Ricky a glass of water. "It'll calm your stomach."

Ricky looked up at her, confused.

Anne smiled, walking over to the island in search of crackers. "The doctor told us that there may be some nausea associated with your meds, especially considering your on multiple pain relievers."

Ricky groaned, shaking his head. "Did the doctor change his mind on the ones that can cause seizures?"

Anne shook her head, sitting down at the table and lifting John from the swing. "No, why?"

Ricky grimaced as he set the glass of water on the floor. "Because something doesn't feel right."

Anne walked back over to him, gently settling John on the floor a few feet away. He cooed softly, and then went turned his attention to trying to get his thumb in his mouth while Anne tried to tend to Ricky. "What do you mean something doesn't feel right. Is your head spinning?"

Ricky shook his head. "Everything keeps going black, and then when it fades back in, its spinning and distorted."

Anne stepped back from him, staring at him for a minute before she walked out of the room.

Ricky groaned, feeling as if something was being kept from him, but he got the feeling that the Juergens weren't going to share whatever it was with him lightly. He forced himself up from the stairs and grabbed the glass of water Anne had given him. Slowly, he hobbled over to the counter, reaching for the basket of pain relievers and antibiotics. He kicked the counter as everything faded out around him, and clung to the counter, waiting for things to focus back in around him.

After a few minutes, his vision slowly faded back to a reasonable point, and he reached into the basket. he pulled out several of the bottles before he found the one he was looking for; the bottle that he hadn't been given because they were likely to cause seizures. He set the morphine back down as his vision contorted once again, and he felt like his head begin to spin. He clung to the counter, though his hands were clammy and it felt like he was spinning on one of those rides at the state fair. Once again, everything faded out around him.

_------------------------------  
She is running; one hundred miles an hour__  
In the wrong direction  
-----------------------------_

Amy rubbed her eyes, completely exhausted from everything that she'd had to deal with today, but not having Ricky or John in the room with her scared her.

She stumbled on he stairs, catching herself as she grabbed the railing. She pulled herself back to her feet, but suddenly was confused. Normally someone would have heard her and called her name. Someone would have asked her if she was okay. Someone would have come running up the stairs. Fear shot through her and she ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she couldn't not scream.

Ricky lay on the floor, convulsing uncontrollably. She ran to him, screaming for her parents as she did the only thing she remembered to do; she rolled him onto his side. She screamed for her parents again, but no one came still. She put every bit of force she could onto him that wouldn't hurt him. Ricky slowly began to stop shaking so violently, and then suddenly came to a complete stop. Amy sobbed as she clung to his hand, scared to death after what she'd walked just experienced.

Her heart pounded as he slowly came to, only vaguely focusing in. He looked up at her, but only for a moment, as he bolted up, though it didn't do him much good. Amy caught him however, before he fell back to the floor.

"What happened? Did you take something? Did he give you that drug, wh-" Ricky put his hand over Amy's mouth.

"No, he didn't, Amy. I...got up when your mom walked out of the room because I wanted to know what it was...that I couldn't take. I felt sick, and something didn't feel right, so I was trying to figure out if I could take something." He explained.

Amy bit her cheek, suddenly realizing the current position they both were in. She was straddling on of his legs from when she'd jumped to stop him from falling back against the floor and hitting his head. "I'm sorry," she spoke softly as she moved off of him.

Ricky shrugged, closing his eyes as the front door opened down the hall. He groaned as he looked up at the ceiling. "Seriously? You called an ambulance?"

Amy rolled her eyes, standing up as the paramedics came through into the kitchen. "You had a seizure Ricky. And you almost choked on your own vomit, so I think that designates a trip to the hospital." She kept out the part where his doctor had called earlier asking them to come in. They'd ran a lot of tests for infections the day before and rushed them through the lab, even though Ricky had been sent home with antibiotics.

The paramedics worked around Ricky, though he was clearly flustered and trying to fight them; especially the one who continued to insist that he needed an IV administered. Having an IV meant spending hours at the hospital, which isn't something that he wanted to do.

While the paramedics prepared Ricky, Amy stuffed things into a diaper bag. She already had two bottles prepared for the night, which she stuffed into the bag along with everything else.

The paramedics brushed past Amy with a still arguing Ricky, just as she finished putting John's bag together. Anne walked up to her and settled the car seat on the table. Amy smiled as John cooed at her. She stuffed the blanket on him into the sides of the chair, and then pulled the car seat cover down so that the bright lights wouldn't affect him once they got to the hospital. In the meantime, she left it open and unzipped.

She pulled the car seat off the table and headed for the door, not even bothering to grab a coat. She knew by the time they got back to the house, it would probably be dawn.

John cooed in his car seat as Amy settled him into backseat. She simply smiled and kissed his forehead, before she closed the door. She rounded the car and jumped into the passenger seat. Anne had already started the car, and she tossed a sweater to Amy as she put the car in reverse. Amy quickly yanked the sweater on and pulled her seatbelt over herself in record time.

Finally having a second to think scared her, as her thoughts began to race. What if something was wrong with his heart or his lungs? What if, after all he'd been through in the last few days, something had been tainted. What if her telling him what happened to her had triggered him. She had no idea what caused seizures, which wasn't really helping her to feel better.

"Talk to me, Amy. I know you're in a high tension situation right now. It helps to talk."

Anne's words didn't really comfort her, but she knew that if she didn't talk to her mom, she wasn't sure what she would do. Even though she'd opened up to Ricky just a few hours earlier, she didn't want that to turn into her only option whenever she needed to talk.

Her heart thumped in her ears as she remembered once again the things that had happened to her. She truly didn't understand how Ricky could use sex as a way to cope, when their one night together had been enough to send her spinning back into a whirlwind of memories. She still remembered getting up and running out once she knew he was sleeping. She had refused to say a word to him for the rest of the summer, and only when she returned to school, did she let him back into her life. Back then, she'd only seen it as a forced issue, like she HAD to let him back into her life because of this baby.

The truth was that she felt so out of control, she clung to the first person that gave her the option, and that happened to be Ben. It probably hadn't been the best the thing to let herself get into, but she couldn't help looking for someone to talk to. Ashley wouldn't understand and she didn't want to tell anyone anyway. She just wanted to escape her own memories, and having Ricky to blame for that made that easy for her. She'd never dreamed that he understood exactly what she was going through.

Someone's horn blared as they shot through the intersection, and she jumped, suddenly focusing again. They were just down the street from the hospital and the ambulance had already pulled into the hospital, but traffic had apparently picked up between the lights.

Anne looked over at Amy, surprised herself, at the fact that Amy was so surprised from the sound of the car horn. She knew that her daughter was struggling from the fact that she was a new mother, with a new boyfriend that had and has a multitude of problems. It was that alone that used to scare her, but now it was that, and all he was physically going through now.

The light finally turned green, and they shot through the intersection, straight into the hospital parking lot. Anne barely had the car parked, but Amy was already out of the car and moving towards the other side of the car. Anne quickly shut the car off and jumped out. "What are you doing!? I could've hit the gas and hit you!"

Amy didn't answer her mother. She was already headed for the Emergency entrance, barely taking the time to make sure no cars were coming at her.

Amy's recklessness scared Anne. It was definitely new, which only fueled her worry, but she'd seen it before. There wasn't really anything that they had ever been able to do. Whatever it was that made Amy react that way, she made her way through it and got out of it in the end. She'd never really understood why she made herself suffer in these ways. If now had been the first time, she could have seen herself blaming it all on Ricky's presence, but this had been going on way before she met Ricky.

Amy rushed into the hospital, barely giving the doctors a chance to tell her what room Ricky was in before she ran into the room. He was still arguing with the EMTs and doctors as one of them adjusted the IV pole.

"C'mon. It was a damn seizure. I'm fine. I can move just fine, I feel fine, I'm just in a lot of pain. Just let me go!" Ricky shoved one of the doctors away as he tried to help one of the nurses remove his shirt.

Amy set John on the floor, and stepped over to the bed, taking his hand in hers. "Calm down, Ricky. They're just trying to help you."

The rage in his eyes made her step back and she gulped, leaning down to pick up John. Without another word, she walked out of the room, into the waiting room.

Anne looked up at her from the seat she'd just taken. "What's wrong? I was sure there was nothing that would keep you from being away from him."

Amy shrugged, biting the inside of her lip. "I just...The look he gave me scared me. I didn't want to upset him more."

Anne nodded, taking John from his car seat. Well why don't you go down to the food court and get yourself something to drink so you can clear your head. I'll come down and get you if something happens."

Amy bit her bottom look, looking back into the room, but Ricky was still fighting with the doctors. Silently, she gave up defeat and took John from her mom. "I'll be back."

She didn't wait for an answer before walking over to the elevator. A woman had just stepped in, and held the door open for her to step in. She smiled at Amy, and looked down at John. "You have a beautiful baby."

Amy nodded at her as she shifted John so that he was against her body. The elevator dinged and she stood up straight again, dashing out the door and into the cafeteria. She marched up to the counter and grabbed a box of juice. John whimpered and she sighed heavily, walking over to a table. She set down the juice box and shifted him off her shoulder, into the crook of her arm. He cooed at her and she smiled. She knew when they left the house that he would be getting hungry soon, but she didn't really know when. Clearly now he was ready...

_------------------  
It's quarter after one,  
I'm all alone,  
And I need you now…  
------------------_

Anne yawned as she opened her eyes, looking up at the clock. Amy had gone down to the cafeteria around 11:45, and the doctors had still been arguing with Ricky. Not long after that, someone had told her they were taking him down radiology for X-Rays to make sure nothing had shifted, and then for blood testing. Now it was almost 2 AM and Amy still hadn't come back upstairs.

Two floors below, Amy was trying to soothe John. Ever since he had finished nursing, he'd been screaming, and she hadn't been able to calm him. Her greatest fear was still that somehow Ricky or her had gotten him sick. People had knocked on the stall door several times, but she had said that John was fine every time because she didn't want people thinking she was a bad mother. But in reality, she had no idea what she was supposed to do to help him.

Someone knocked on her door again and she gulped, feeling tears burning in her eyes. She couldn't possibly be failing this bad, so early on, but she couldn't handle it anymore. 30 minutes of screaming was far too long for her to still be trying to calm him. She slowly stood and opened the door; her throat knotted when she saw a nurse standing in front of her. Maybe she could help.

The woman smiled at Amy and offered to help. Amy passed John off to her reluctantly, gulping. "I t-tried burping him, I checked his diaper, I don't know what I did."

The nurse smiled at her, shaking her head. "I don't think you did anything wrong, sweetheart. I think he's just overtired and feeling the stress of why you're here, whatever that may be. Just try rocking him to sleep and I'm sure he'll be okay." She moved to give John back to Amy, but Amy shook her head.

"I can't do this. I'm, I'm fifteen, and I'm screwing up already. I-I can't. I can't be a mother and be this bad at it, I just can't. Not… I just can't. Just take him, I can't, I can't, I can't." Amy spoke fast, panicked and scared. She stepped back, and then ran from the room, not sure at all of where she was going. She didn't want that nurse to catch her. She just wanted to be free….

She stopped running as she bumped into another nurse, who happened to be pushing a patient. Her foot caught on the side of the wheelchair and she hit the floor with a thud. Instead of continuing to run, she pushed herself up, into a half-sitting position, staring at the floor as she realized she she'd just done. A sob broke through her and covered her face as she realized she'd just basically given up her son.

She jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Ricky. Her chin trembled as a new set of tears filled her eyes and he hugged her. She clung to him as she sobbed into his shoulder. She knew she was probably hurting him more than she was herself, but he was the only one she felt like she could really be herself to. He was the only one who really shared this bond with her; who really understood what it was like to feel like this.

Ricky rubbed her back, trying to calm her. He knew nothing of what had her so upset. He knew he'd upset her when he'd glared at her, but he didn't thin he'd hurt her that bad. He hadn't even meant to hurt her; he just had wanted to leave and not be stuck there another night. He'd practically had to fight tooth and nail to leave the day before and he didn't want to fight them again.

He looked up from the floor, down her body as he realized she didn't have John with her. It was still so new to him that they John was actually here. Part of his reason for jumping up to help her so quickly was the forethought of John still being inside of her. He gulped as he saw the nurse pushing on her leg. Amy seemed totally unfazed by it. "What-what's wrong?"

Amy sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes as she heard Ricky speak; assuming he was talking to her. "I just-"

Ricky shook his head, turning hers to where the nurse was applying pressure to her leg. He barely had a second to cover her mouth before she screamed. She never had liked the sight of blood. He'd learned that the hard way.

Amy slapped him as her breathing began to quicken. She didn't understand what she'd done to her leg, or why she couldn't feel her legs. "Wh-what's going on? Wh-why can't I feel anything?!"

The nurse looked up at her, trying to calm her. "Just breathe, sweetie. The chair caught your leg pretty good and I'm trying to slow the bleeding. You may need stitches."

Amy shook her head, wiping more tears from her face as fresh ones fell. "N-no, you don't understand. I can't **feel **my legs!"

The nurse pulled her walkie-talkie from the pocket of her scrubs. "I need a doctor down here. I've got a fallen visitor who's bleeding pretty good and having unexplained numbness; in the west corridor on the third floor."

Amy shook her head as she buried her face in her hands. What was she going to do now? She'd given up her son, sliced her leg open and possibly paralyzed herself all in a matter of five minutes. She really was a bad mom…

* * *

A/N: Just as another note, don't for one second think that any of how this ends will last. Things will change. Amy's just really struggling right now and she needs to figure it out. They will get John back and she WILL figure out how to manage.


	5. Why Don't They Understand

_A/N: I would like to mention right here at the beginning, that the play-out of what was told in the first chapter (Bob attacking Ricky I mean) is not the full story. Part of that was my own selfish choice of not wanting to write three pages of gruesome abuse, and also so that I could work things into later chapters -- fit them in like puzzle pieces. Some of that comes up in this chapter._

_Chapter 5_

_Why Don't They Understand_

_That Someone Else's Pain, Is Not For Gain_

Amy was inconsolable. No one had been able to find John, though it had only been about half an hour, and the doctors had taken her down for a multitude of tests and X-Rays, not understanding why she'd just lost feeling in her lower body. They'd barely had her stitched up before another doctor had come in and whisked her down to radiology and then into labs. Ricky was with her the entire time, but she was completely fallen apart, not knowing where her son was. She didn't even know the woman she'd left her son with, and she'd just run from him like she repelled him. All she knew was where she had been when she'd found Ricky and his nurse.

Anne had insisted that he was probably down in the nursery resting; that the nurse had probably taken him down there after Amy ran away in hopes that Amy might turn up. No one had been down there yet to find out though, and that scared Amy to the point of wanting to jump right out of her own skin.

Anne walked up to the nurses station, looking for an available nurse. There wasn't anyone at the desk, or around to answer her, but there was no way she was going back to that room without her grandson.

A nurse walked into the station and smiled at her. "Can I help you?"

Anne stood from the chair she'd sat down in and nodded. "Yes, actually. My daughter… Well, her-…The-… Okay, my daughter just had a baby, and from what I understand, something took place in one of the washrooms and a nurse tried to help her and I guess she got scared and ran. Now she's freaking out because she thinks she gave up her son."

The nurse smiled, nodding as Anne told her the story. "Come to think of it, you do look a lot like your daughter."

Anne looked at her quizzically, confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was the nurse she gave your grandson to. I tried to explain to her that he was probably just overtired and sensing all the stress that everyone was under," she explained.

Anne nodded. "Well my daughter is 15, a new mother, and pretty scared, not to mention scatterbrained. She's still trying to adjust to what her life has become. I just…can I get my grandson, please?"

The nurse stepped up to the counter. "I just want her to know that had we not understood her position due to the baby's father's story being all over the hospital, I would have been required to call the police."

Anne shook her head, confused. "What story?"

The nurse raised an eyebrow at him. "He was the one who got attacked shortly after the baby was born, wasn't he?"

Anne nodded. "Yeah… I wouldn't let my daughter or Ricky know that that's all over the hospital though. Amy's likely to lose it all together, and Ricky hates his life enough already as it is."

The nurse nodded. "I'm Maria, by the way. I'm gonna need a show of ID before I can give you your grandson, though."

Anne sighed, thankful that she'd brought her purse with her. She dug into it, searching through it a bit before she managed to find her wallet. She flipped it open onto the counter, showing Maria her drivers license. Maria looked it over for a second and then nodded, walking away.

Anne grabbed her ID and stuffed it back into her purse, tapping her foot as she waited. After about a minute, Maria returned, holding John in her arms. He whimpered and stretched, but accustomed to her as he had been to everyone else in the last few days. She smiled, thanking Maria before she turned to walk away…

_---------  
__Laying alone in the history  
That made you  
Cold and uncertain inside  
---------_

Ricky sat, half asleep in the wheelchair he'd been in all evening it seemed, trying to stay awake. Amy was only starting to calm down, but to anyone who was just walking in, would have figured she was hysterical. The doctors still hadn't returned with either of their tests, and Ricky had had two seizures since arriving, one which had taken place while they were waiting for Anne to return with John.

"Breathe, Amy. I'm sure John is fine. I promise you he'll be back with us in no time," he tried to reassure her, at the same time trying to stay conscious.

She shook her head for what must've been the millionth time that night. "The doctors haven't told us what's wrong what either of us, you just had another seizure, and its all scaring me."

Anne knocked on the door just then, smiling as she walked in with John. She wasted no time in taking him over to Amy, who cradled her still sleeping son against her chest as a fresh set of tears began to fall. "It's okay, Amy. John is okay."

Amy shook her head, though she said nothing as her mother tried to calm her once again. "What's wrong? You seemed like you were calming down when I left."

Ricky lifted his head up from his shoulder again, yawning this time. "I had another seizure and no one was in here," he spoke groggily.

Anne frowned, hugging her daughter gently, as to not squish John. Amy cried into her shoulder, wishing in that moment that she could start the year all over again. She wanted to go back to before band camp and before she ever met Ricky. If this was how things were going to keep going, she didn't want to live this life.

Anne did her best to calm her daughter, but she seemed in consolable. She only prayed that the doctors would come in soon and tell them what was wrong.

As if reading her mind, Dr. Grant, the admitting physician entered the room. Amy sat up, cradling John on one arm while she wiped her tears with her free hand. Dr. Grant smiled at both Amy and Anne, and held back a laugh at Ricky's hunched position, seeing him seemingly half-asleep. Anne reached over and gently shook him, and he perked up.

"Hmm?" He rubbed his eyes wearily, trying desperately to stay awake, but failing horribly.

Dr. Grant smiled, walking over to Ricky's IV bag and checking it. "First off, we wanted to make sure every test result was correctly positive or negative before we came to give you the diagnosis. Both conditions are treatable, and not nearly as bad as they seem." Dr. Grant continued to speak as he set his clip board down, revealing a fresh IV bag.

"Firstly, we wanted to check every avenue just to be sure, but our original diagnosis was correct for you, Ricky. Are you listening," he couldn't help but laugh as Ricky tried to keep his head up. He mumbled an "mmm", lifting his head up and forcing his eyes open. Dr. Grant walked over to the night stand and poured a glass of cold water for him. Ricky took it and slowly sipped it, shivering as the cool liquid slid down his throat.

"Okay, what? So I can sleep, please," he half-growled.

Amy giggled softly, unable not to at his tone.

Dr. Grant smiled as well, continuing. "In some patients after a brain injury has taken place, they have non-epileptic seizures. It's not really known whether these seizures will continue for a long period of time, or subside as the person gets better. In your case, you were injured on just about every part of your body, brain included. To be honest, someone should have given you another EEG before you left and required you to come in for one every day this week."

Anne cut him off, confused. "So what're you saying?"

Dr. Grant turned to her as he opened the bag of IV fluids. "What we've figured is, seizures are misfires in the brain when our nerve in our brains don't fire properly, and instead cause a sudden burst of energy, resulting in the seizure. We believe the cause of this in Ricky's case has to do with not only all the physical and emotional trauma he's been through in the last 48 hours, but also the cranial trauma his brain has withstood. The EEG we did earlier revealed severe bruising around where his head repeatedly smashed into the baseboard in the room downstairs.

Anyway, the bruising was also something that went undiagnosed due to him being rushed into surgery so quickly the other day. Basically, he has a concussion, but also has been having post-TBI seizures as well. And while there is no treatment for a concussion, we have to treat the seizures with Dilantin. We'll be monitoring it closely while you're here for the next few days, and then you may be sent home with a prescribed form. It's important that you stick to the prescribed dosage, because overdose can result in severe allergic reactions and even worse seizure. You got me," Dr. Grant spoke firmly, but gently as he stared Ricky clear in the eye.

Ricky nodded. "I got you. But print this all out 'cause I might forget," he spoke honestly. Dr. Grant chuckled softly as he set up the new IV bag, making sure the drip was set at 40mg per hour.

He then turned to Amy and Anne, turning Amy leg slightly to check the stitches on her leg. "Now you my dear, can blame this all on him," Dr. Grant teased as he pointed to Ricky, who feigned a scoff. Amy raised an eyebrow, but still couldn't help laughing.

Dr. Grant continued, explaining. "Sometimes when women are pregnant, there's pressure put on the spine and certain nerves that give sense of movement and feeling. Now because you're still a teenager and your body is under-developed, your son applied more pressure on your spine and body than it would a normal, fully grown woman. Because of that, a lot of your spinal nerves were compressed and forced together by the lack of room. When you gave birth, your body was, and still is, trying to bring down the swelling from delivery. But when you fell, you threw your spine back in such a way that it pinched nerves in your back that give you feeling and movement in your legs."

Amy gulped as she heard what Dr. Grant was saying. While having a diagnosis made her feel better, she didn't feel any better about not being able to walk right or feel her legs. "So what's going to happen to me?"

Dr. Grant smiled. "I told you, it's not as bad as you think. Because we caught this so early, as compared to you drumming it up to too much stress and making it through to when the intense pain starts… We'll treat it with rest and corticosteroids for the pain that you'll most definitely be feeling in the morning. Worst case scenario, which your are **not**, would have been surgery. I'm recommending you take a few days rest, and in about a week, you both should be back to, well, as normal as you were before any of this happened. As far as your stitches, I'd say, schedule a follow-up appointment with your doctor in two to three weeks to have them removed." He paused for a moment as he scribbled something on his clipboard. "Now I'm going to get those steroids approved for you, and when you start feeling pain, you let someone know before it gets bad. Okay?"

Amy nodded, laying back against the pillow for the first time that night. She'd been so afraid all night that it was the first time she felt like she could breathe. She looked over at Ricky and couldn't help but laugh at his half-asleep figure.

Anne lifted John from Amy's arms and kissed her daughter's forehead. "It's almost 5 AM, so I should get headed home. You two get some rest and either your father or I will be back up probably tonight to drop by for a visit."

Amy was about to speak, when her mother cut her off. "Don't worry about John. Just rest; your bodies need it. John won't forget who you are." Anne smiled after a minute, kissing Amy's head once more. "I love you. Now get some sleep and I'll see you later."

Amy nodded, doing her best to shift under the blankets. Anne smiled and waved goodbye to her as she stepped out of the room and turned the lights off, closing the door almost all the way until just a stream of light was showing through.

Amy looked over at Ricky, who smiled up at her. "I really don't want to sleep in this chair. Its not comfortable."

Amy giggled and patted the spot next to her. "Lay with me."

Ricky shrugged, wheeling himself over to the bed and pulling the IV pole around so that it was next to the bed. He practically threw himself onto it, careful not to hurt Amy in any way as he laid down next to her. Amy laughed; she was sure not even five seconds after his head was on the pillow that he was snoring.

She sighed and shimmied down the bed somewhat so she could lay her head on his chest. Ricky instinctively wrapped his arm around her, burying his face in her hair. She closed her eyes, whispering a "g'night" before she too fell asleep.

_---------  
__Sticks and stones  
__Wont break my soul  
__Get out of the way  
__I'm invincible  
---------_

Amy groaned as she shifted in the bed. Her body ached, and the last thing she wanted to be right now was awake. She reluctantly shifted her legs and whimpered at the pain radiating through her. "God, what did I do to deserve this?!"

"I could say the same thing," Ricky spoke raspily from his own bed, several feet away.

Amy looked over at him, vaguely remembering Ricky fighting with a nurse around 7 AM when they were moving him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Ricky shook his head, seething as he used both hands to move his broken right leg. He bit back tears, slowly sitting up with the help of the bed lifting him up. "Something's not…something's wrong," he spoke after a moment.

Amy looked over at him, still not fully awake. She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes wearily before she looked at him direclty. "What're you talking about?"

Ricky grimaced, biting hard on the inside of his cheeks as he slowly turned his left arm, and then his right. "They took the bandaging off." Both were covered almost completely covered in blue and purple bruises. His left arm burned more as he turned it, obviously broken, as the pain in his right forearm couldn't even compare.

Dr. Grant knocked lightly on the door as he walked into the room. "How's the pain," he asked as he walked over to Amy. She shrugged, shifting once again.

"Bad. But not as bad as labor, I guess," she surmised. After a minute she smirked. "Have you come to give me drugs?"

Dr. Grant chuckled softly, but Ricky spoke before he could answer Amy.

"God I hope so. I can't handle this much longer."

Dr. Grant turned, walking over to Ricky. "Where does it hurt?"

Ricky seethed as he tried to move his leg again; anything just for a little bit of comfort. "Everywhere. And why aren't my arms covered?"

Dr. Grant gently lifted Ricky's left arm, turning it slowly. "This is the broken one?"

Ricky nodded as Dr. Grant slowly ran his fingers over Ricky's forearm, searching. Ricky raised an eyebrow at him, slightly confused, and slightly weirded out. Dr. Grant simply smiled.

"As it was explained to me, when you were taken into surgery, a plate was placed in your arm, from your wrist to about midway up your forearm. But because you're so badly bruised, finding the stitches is proving harder than I thought." Dr. Grant paused for a moment as he brushed his fingers over Ricky's wrist once, and then again, nodding. "Here. And the reason your arms were unwrapped was to check the bruising and stitches because your arm cannot be placed into a cast until the incision has completely healed."

Dr. Grant paused once more as he settled Ricky's arm gently back on the bed and walked around it, lifting the other and gently examining it. "You have to understand, when that bed collapsed on you, it came down on every major bone in your body. You were lucky to have had no spinal injury, but the major reason for that was the fact that the railings on the bed came down on your chest and legs. We may be doctors, Ricky, but we still don't understand how you survived everything you did in that room, especially after taking a knife in one shoulder, and an IV pole in the other."

Ricky cringed at the memory, feeling the pain of it just from the conscious memory of how both injury's felt.

_Bob kicked Ricky back to the door, smacking his knee into the side of Ricky's head as he went back to work. The room spun around Ricky as he heard a slicing noise that made his stomach churn; the sounds of metal cutting metal made him sick. A moment later, Bob walked back over to him, kicking him to the ground again, this time on his stomach. _

_Before Ricky had a chance to react, a scream emitted from his mouth as the pole slammed straight through his shoulder, but was only there for a minute before Bob ripped it out, wasting no time on ripping Ricky's jeans off of him…._

"Ricky?"

He looked up at Amy and then Dr. Grant, suddenly realizing what happened.

"Sorry. I guess I spaced," he lied.

Dr. Grant patted Ricky's hand gently. "Flashbacks are a normal part of healing in traumas like this. They should lessen over time."

Ricky couldn't help but roll his eyes. "No offense, but I tend to have several a day; I have since Bob went to jail when I was 12."

Dr. Grant nodded, deciding not to push the conversation further. "I'll send a nurse in to wrap both of your arms again and check the rest of your bandaging, as well as administering some more pain medication." He then turned back to Amy. "I'll have a nurse come in and bring you meds as well. Lunch will be served soon, so you both should eat as well."

Amy nodded, waiting for Dr. Grant to leave before she forced herself off the bed and into the wheelchair. She wheeled herself over to Ricky, gently holding his left hand.

"Am I hurting you," she asked softly.

"Everything hurts. But I don't want you to let go." Ricky looked down at her, not able to fight the tears burning in his eyes from the pain radiating through his body.

Amy nodded, continuing to hold his hand.

After about five minutes of silence, Ricky broke it, with the last thing Amy expected.

"The first time my mom found out what Bob was doing, she watched and didn't say a word."

Amy looked up at him, seeing the tears still in his eyes. "You don't have to tell me these things."

Ricky shook his head. "You should know. Too many things have happened to me that I remember all the time and I usually end up freaking out or losing it because of whatever it may be."

Amy bit her bottom lip, knowing he was only looking to tell her what would benefit helping him in the future, but knowing he'd been hurt that way was eating her up inside. "Ricky, I don't know if I…I don't know if I can handle knowing these things. I don't…seeing you like this hurts me enough. I don't think I want to know."

Ricky turned his head away from her, not knowing how to reply to that. How would she ever stay a willing participant in this relationship if mere stories hurt her. Ricky had long learned that even when Bob went away, he always came back. **Always.**

Amy looked up at him, wiping the tears from her eyes. The look of rejection on his face made her stomach drop. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. You can tell me."

Ricky shook his head. "I don't want you to feel pressured. I just didn't want you to feel blindsided in the future…"

Amy nodded. "I understand. It's okay, I promise. Just… in moderation."

Ricky nodded, but before he had a chance to say anything else, a nurse entered the room with a tray. She settled it on the nightstand next to Ricky's bed, and Amy wheeled herself around to the other side while the nurse slipped gloves on.

"I'm Elizabeth. I'll be on call for the next two days, so you'll probably be seeing me a lot," She explained as she prepared the dressing for Ricky's arms.

Both Ricky and Amy nodded as they sat silently, watching her work. She looked around after setting everything out correctly, obviously searching for something. She smiled at both of them before walking out of the room.

Amy raised an eyebrow at Ricky, confused. "Okay?"

He laughed lightly, regretting it as pain radiated through his ribs. "Maybe she's on crack," he teased.

Amy shrugged, going silent as Elizabeth walked back in the room with a two splints. She settled them on the nightstand and changed her gloves before she turned to Ricky, lifting his left arm. "I'm going to wrap both of your arms in gauze because of the stitches in both, and then Dr. Grant wants splints on both. Once your right arm is fully healed, he isn't planning on casting it, but you left arm will need to have a cast," she explained. "Do you understand?"

Ricky nodded, watching as she, like Dr. Grant, gently searched for the stitches on his arm. There He hadn't actually had many stitching sites; most of the cuts on his arms were gashes caused either from the bed collapsing on him, or something else Bob had done to him. He still didn't remember most of what had taken place.

As she turned his arm so his forearm was facing up, he seethed, yanking her hand off, though he quickly regretted it as pain shot up his left arm as well. He rocked back and forth, eyes squeezed shut from the stabbing pain shooting up his body. Tears spilled over as he rocked, wishing he wasn't there.

"Breathe, Ricky. Just try to breathe," Amy tried to calm him as Elizabeth rubbed his back, softly apologizing. Slowly, he calmed, biting the inside of his bottom lip as he lifted his arm back up to her. She gasped at the gash on it, suddenly realizing why he'd shoved her. "How'd you get this?"

Ricky thought for a moment as he looked at it, trying to remember. "I think… I remember hot. Like burning."

Elizabeth nodded as she finished putting Neosporin on the affected areas. "These look like burns," she spoke as she began to wrap gauze around his arm. "Alright, I'm going to wrap your arms completely in gauze, then place the splint on, but there's a layer of cotton between the gauze and the splint to keep it from digging into you arm."

Ricky nodded, listening to her as she finished bandaging his right arm. Before she moved to wrap his left arm, she handed him a glass of water, and a small cup with several meds in them. "Pain killers. These will most likely put you to sleep, so Dr. Grant asked that you wait to take them after you've eaten something."

Ricky groaned, dropping his head back against the pillow. The mere idea of waiting _five more minutes_ made him want to cry. Sure, he didn't like showing emotion, but he was in enough pain to not care. "Please juts let me take them now. I can't handle being in this much pain."

Elizabeth lifted the tray and rounded Ricky's bed, setting it on his overbed table. She went to work wrapping cleaning and wrapping his left arm as she spoke. "I'll speak with Dr. Grant once I've finished doing this and then either or I will let you know, alright?"

Ricky sighed, accepting defeat. He just wanted to sleep until the pain finally stopped. It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, everything hurt; his head, his arms, his leg, his torso; there was no winning.

Elizabeth was speedy but thorough in covering and bandaging Ricky's left arm before she gave Amy meds and helped her back into her own bed. She walked out of the room after, leaving the two alone again. The minute she was gone though, Amy was sitting up again, looking over at Ricky.

"I really think you should stay up a little longer and try to eat something. You haven't eaten anything in days because of all this."

Ricky looked over at her wearily, not caring that tears were running down his face. "I'm in more pain than I can explain to you. Every time I move just a little bit, its like being stabbed all over again. If I breathe too hard, feel like my stitches are ripping right out of my body. I can't even hold a spoon because of how badly my arms are hurt."

Amy chewed on her lip as she listened to him. She wanted to hold him and make him feel better, but it seemed like nobody could. "I'm sorry."

Dr. Grant knocked on the doorframe as he stepped in, frowning as he saw Ricky's state. "You still feeling a lot of pain?"

Ricky nodded, reaching up to wipe away the tears on his face. "Quite a bit, actually."

Dr. Grant nodded, lifting the binder from the end of the bed and flipping it open. He checked it over before settling it back down and looking up at Ricky. "The problem is that your body needs nutrition to fight off the infections in you body, as well as trying to get healthy, and because of the pain medication making you sleep, you're not getting what you need."

Ricky forced the knot in his throat down as he swallowed, breathing heavily. "Everything I do right now is reacted by pain. I move, I hurt, I drink, my throat hurts, I use the bathroom, that hurts. I'm trying, but everything **hurts.**"

Dr. Grant nodded, seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with Ricky at the moment. Let me see if I can't get nutrition by IV for you for the next few days. Can you hang tight for a few minutes?"

Ricky sighed, but nodded, averting his gaze back to the ceiling as Dr. Grant walked out of the room.

Amy watched him silently, wishing she could help him. Anything to make him feel better in the smallest way. "I wish I could do something to make you feel better."

He looked over at her, just for a moment, giving a small smile. "You do. You're here."


	6. Little Secrets

A/N: Sorry for the wait, guys. I'm trying to get into a weekly update pattern, especially now that I'm done with school. I've also got two other stories in the works as well, and I'm hoping to to get them posted soon. Anyway, comments are love. XD I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Also, I tried to get this posted yesterday morning, but didn't want to work with me, so I'm posting it now :)

_Chapter 6_

_Little Secrets_

Amy yawned as she bounced John in her arms. George had taken off to speak with one of the nurses about alternative pain medication for Ricky once they were out of the hospital. He'd been in and out of consciousness for the last week, only picking at things here and there. Every time they'd tried to give him parenteral nutrition through his IV, he woke up vomiting. Dr. Grant had decided after the last attempt to run an STD panel, which had infuriated Amy's parents when they found out that the original ER doctor hadn't run one to begin with.

Amy on the other hand, had been doing absolutely fine. A week in bed may have driven her nuts, but she was feeling better, and able to move around a lot more without being in pain. Dr. Grant had still kept her there for a week, and checked her every day after when she came in to visit Ricky. He insisted that he just wanted to be sure she was healthy, but Amy was sure it was just so Ricky didn't feel like he was getting special treatment.

Amy had learned quickly that Ricky didn't like that.

Dr. Grant walked into the room, carrying a sheet in his hand. Amy shifted her leg, pulling it up so that her thighs were touching, with her foot hanging out the arm of the chair. The blue stitches on her ankle showed brightly against her pale skin. She'd picked the same colored socks just because of the fact that she'd planned on wearing a plaid skirt. She wore a white tank top, with a white and orange Grant sweater. She rarely wore her school colours, but her mother had insisted when she walked out the door that morning that she wear a sweater, and she'd grabbed the first one in sight. Besides, the two complimentary colours, so the automatically fit.

She shifted John so that he was facing her and lifted his blanket over her shoulder to feed him. At the same time, she turned to Dr. Grant. "Your face says the results didn't come back as you hoped."

Dr. Grant shook his head. "'No. I'm going to have to draw your blood too. Several of his tests came back positive, and because you've kissed…"

Amy nodded, understanding. She wasn't mad, but she knew Ricky would be infuriated and ashamed for even risking giving anything to her in the first place.

"I'm going to send a nurse in to draw some blood, and we're going to run a full panel to make sure that there's nothing in your blood that we missed in his. You should know though, it's a very low possibility. Running these tests is simply procedure."

Amy nodded again. "I understand. How're you going to treat him?"

Dr. Grant set the lab sheet down on the bed table and folded his hands. "For now we're planning on going with the regular course of treatment, which is a 14 day regime of Tetracycline and Doxycycline, and should clear out of the system within a few days after. Now if your labs come back positive as well, don't nurse him while you're on the antibiotics. I'd give it another week after you finish them before you start breastfeeding again, if you choose to."

Amy nodded, breathing a heavy sigh. The last thing she wanted to do was have to explain this all to Ricky, but she probably be the one who would have to. She knew that he wouldn't take it well either.

Dr. Grant walked out of the room as George reentered, carrying a bottle of juice for Amy. He kept his eyes averted as she gently bounced John, trying to keep him calm. Judging by his pouting, she assumed he was probably not liking that she was keeping him covered.

George sat down across from her, keeping his face in a magazine, only out of respect, she knew.

"You know I don't care if you look at me. Its not like you can see anything."

George shrugged, keeping his face in the magazine. "John seems fussy with that blanket, so I'll decide not to take my chances today. While Ricky may enjoy that visual, I'd rather not, Ames."

Amy giggled as she shifted John once more. He'd dozed off in her arms, and she was still learning to move him around without showing the world her assets…well at least one of them. After a moment, she managed to move him onto he shoulder and pull her shirt up, rubbing his back gently. George set his magazine down, smirking. "I remember when you used to do that to your mother."

Amy raised an eyebrow at her father, confused.

"You'd act like you were hungry, get fussy and cry, but after a few minutes you'd just fall asleep." He explained.

Amy nodded, understanding as she leaned over to place John in his car seat. He shifted again, but settled in his seat as Amy reached a hand forward, holding on of Ricky's in her own. She ran her other hand through his mussed hair, being gentle so she didn't hurt the stitches on his head. Her chin trembled as she stared at him, seeing how vulnerable he was. Twice in just the last three days, nurses and doctors had run in to suction vomit out of his throat because he wasn't waking up fast enough. She feared for his life more now than she had when Bob had first attacked him. What if he couldn't get better? What if all these infections and all the damage that had been done to him, took a toll?

George shook his head, setting his magazine down. "Don't let this get to you Ames. Ricky will get through this. He's come this far; he's not going to give up now when there's finally some good in his life. Let him suffer a little bit. He's entitled."

Amy wanted to object, she wanted to tell him everything she was dealing with too, and make him see why she couldn't lose Ricky, but she couldn't. She couldn't tell him when it took everything in her to tell Ricky. She **needed** Ricky. If not for John, than for her sanity.

As if he could read her thoughts, he squeezed her hand, groaning as he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a few times, grimacing at the instant pain that he felt, before looking up at Amy. She forced a smile as she whispered a hi to him. He smiled back at her, pulling his hand from hers, and brushing her bangs out of her face. "What's wrong?"

"She's just worrying about you," George answered quickly.

Ricky shook his head as he sat up, moving his legs over the side of the bed. "No, its more than that. I can tell."

Amy shook her head as she stared down at the floor, trying not to fall apart. Ricky sighed, figuring it probably had something to do with the flashbacks she'd been telling him about. "We'll talk later?"

Amy nodded, wiping the tears from her face.

"Less than two weeks, and you two already have secrets? Don't clue me in. I'm not sure I want to know," George smirked as Amy let out a small laugh.

"I spoke with the nurses and Dr. Grant, and they have a few more tests they'd like to run today, and then you should be set to go. So I'm going to get your clothes from the car."

Amy shifted in her seat, watching as her father walked out of the room. She bit her bottom lip as she looked up at Ricky. "Dr. Grant ran blood tests. He thinks they know why you were throwing up everything."

Ricky nodded. "I… heard him. I'm sorry."

Amy shook her head, looking up at him. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything to me, and this happening isn't your fault. They're just infections. Infections that are completely treatable. Infections that are **already** being treated."

Ricky shook his head back at her. "They shouldn't have to be in the first place."

Amy sighed. "You're right. They shouldn't have to be, but that's not your fault. That's Bob's fault. I'm sure I'll be fine, so don't beat yourself up."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, a nurse entered the room, carrying a basket with tools needed for drawing blood. Amy pouted at the sight of the vials, not really wanting to be stabbed.

Ricky laughed, taking both of her hands in his. "Just focus on me."

Amy gulped, nodding as the nurse gathered the things she needed. She ran her fingers over Amy's forearm, quickly finding a vein. She wiped it clean quickly and then grabbed the needle, placing it over Amy's arm. Amy flinched as the needle pierced her skin, but Ricky held her attention.

"What's really wrong? What couldn't you say in front of your dad?"

Amy shook her head, staring at the floor again. "I don't want to talk about it here."

Ricky nodded, letting go of her hands.

"Wait, what're you doing?" Amy blurted, reaching her hand out to him.

He looked back up at her, caressing her cheek. "Calm down. I can't move my leg unless I use both hands. Okay?"

Amy nodded, biting the inside of her lip as she watched him move his fully-casted leg over the side of the bed. As he did, the nurse placed a Band-Aid on Amy's arm, shaking the vials several times. "Dr. Grant will let you know what the results are before you go. They shouldn't take too long to process."

With that, she walked out of the room, just as George walked back in. He set a duffle bag on the bed and grabbed John's car seat. "I'll be outside the room. But if you aren't ready in 15 minutes, I'm coming back in."

Amy laughed as George walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. She stood and opened the bag, rifling through it. "I made sure he packed just what you liked and would be comfortable in." She pulled out his favourite jeans, shirt, and the black vest he wore all the time.

Ricky smirked as Amy walked around the bed and untied the gown. Amy, on the other hand, grimaced. "When's the last time they changed the bandages on your shoulders?"

"I don't know. I sleep through most of that, remember?"

Amy nodded, though he couldn't see her, and she pushed the sleeves off his shoulders, walking back around the bed as he tossed it to the floor. Amy's face turned beet red as he realized he would need her to help change into his boxers. Ricky laughed as she looked the other way, biting her bottom lip. "I can get **these** off, but I can't get those on. Not by myself."

Amy gulped and nodded, turning around once he'd removed his boxers. She kneeled and quickly helped him to get the clean pair on. Once she was sure he could reach them, she spun away from him, covering her face as sobs wracked through her.

Ricky quickly yanked his boxers up, reaching out to touch her. "Amy, c'mon its okay. Amy…" She kept her back turned on him, shaking from the sobs escaping her. "Amy, I can't stand that long, and I can't stop my own fall-" She quickly spun around as his leg buckled under him, and caught him before he fell or hit anything. Amy looked up at him and he sighed, brushing his thumb against her bottom lip. "You're bleeding."

Amy shrugged, helping him into the wheelchair. "Just sit for a minute. I need to breathe."

Ricky nodded, settling into the chair. "You're right. You do." He pulled her down so that she was kneeling next to the chair. "I'm not going to hurt you. I would never make you do that, but you can't hide what you're feeling. It'll only hurt you more. If I scare you, tell me."

Amy stared down at the floor, biting her bottom lip. "I don't want to hurt you-"

Ricky cut her off, shaking his head. "You're not going to hurt me. I understand what you're feeling, and if you won't talk to anyone else, I need you to be honest with me. Letting that fester more than you already have let it, is going to make it harder."

Amy nodded, resting her head against the arm of the wheelchair. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just…help me get dressed, please," he spoke softly using his elbows to push himself out of the chair. Amy helped him up again, and he used her as leverage as she helped him into the jeans. Getting them over his casted leg was a struggle, as but she managed to get them on, laughing at the difference. Ricky shook his head, sitting back on the bed. "Whatever. We live in California. I guess I'll just ask my mom to drop some shorts off."

Amy nodded, helping him to get the shirt on. She couldn't help but laugh as she moved his arms into the sleeves while trying not to lift them. It was like dressing John all over again. Once it was on, he slipped the vest on and then sat back down on the bed. Amy giggled once again as she saw that the IV was running up his shirt, outside the neck of it. "Why don't we ever wait until the nurse shows up?"

Ricky shrugged. "I don't have that much patience."

Amy sat back down in the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. She was about to cross her legs, when Ricky grabbed her foot, and turned it slightly, looking at the stitches on her ankle. "Does it hurt?"

Amy shook her head. "Not really. Sometimes it feels like a needle stabbed through it, but goes away just as fast."

Ricky nodded, brushing his fingers against the stitches. "I'm sorry I was in the way."

Amy shrugged. "You weren't in the way. I tripped; I was mess and freaking out."

The door swung open and she jumped, pulling her leg down as George raised an eyebrow at them. "Footsies?"

Amy giggled, shaking her head.

"I gave you five extra minutes," he teased as he set John's carseat on the end of the bed. Ricky immediately reached out to take him, smiling as John cooed at him.

Dr. Grant entered the room a moment later, smiling. "We just need to draw some blood and send you home with fresh perscriptions. The nurse will be in, in a few minutes to do that, and then she'll remove the IV, and you should be good to."

Amy gulped as she watched him turn to walk out the door. He smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up. Amy breathed a sigh of relief, warranting suspicion. Amy sighed, shaking her head. "Don't freak."

George looked back and forth between Ricky and Amy. "Well I know you're not having sex, and you can't possibly be pregnant…so what?"

Amy looked up at Ricky, and he nodded, continuing to pay more attention to John than anything else. "Dr. Grant wanted to test me for STDs, because Ricky's labs came back positive. Mine came back clean."

"You're sure of that," George asked quickly. He tried not to get angry, wanting to kill Bob more than anything, but even more so now.

Amy nodded. "I'll ask the nurse just to make sure, but yes, I'm pretty sure."

The nurse entered the room as Amy finished speaking, and Ricky rolled his eyes. Amy stood, taking John from his arms as she walked over. "Why must you dress before we remove the IV? It just makes it more of a hassle for you," she teased.

Amy laughed, watching as she removed the tape, and then slowly removed the IV. She covered it quickly with a cotton ball and then Band-Aid before she threw the needle away and disposed of the IV. George moved out of the way so that she could draw blood. Amy, in the meantime, stood and walked over to the carseat, settling John into it. She buckled him in while the nurse drew blood from his arm. George placed a hand on her shoulder, looking down at her. "I'm going to go pull the car up."

Amy nodded…

_----  
All those times  
That I felt like this  
Won't end…  
----_

The clock chimed as Amy finally laid John back into his crib. It was almost midnight, and her father and mother had gone to bed hours ago, but she didn't want to wake them for this. She had to learn to get her emotions under control and take care of John. After all, this was her life from now on.

She sat down on her bed, picking her laptop up from the floor and opening it. She had a myriad of homework to get done, but she'd barely had the time to get to it ever since Ricky had been checked into the hospital. She sighed, clicking out of her email as her computer continued to load. She seriously needed an upgrade, but she'd have to pray that came in the form of a birthday present, because she didn't have the money to buy a new one. Her parents had reluctantly allowed her to use some of her college fund to pay for her doctor bills, because she'd insisted that John was her responsibility, even though she also hated that fact in a way. She didn't hate her son, but she hated the fact that she'd done this to herself, and now she was going to have to change her whole world. She didn't know why she'd waited so long. Maybe it had been because she had been with Ben so long, that he gave her this fairy tail way out of everything, but she never really wanted that. She wanted Ricky, and she always had; Ben had been the epitome of everything that she knew she was safe, everything that she would have had if she had never met Ricky.

She looked over at him and couldn't help but laugh. He had fallen asleep shortly after they got back, only after George had forced him to eat something, and so far he'd been lucky enough that he hadn't thrown it back up, though it hadn't stopped Amy from checking him every 5 minutes and staying in her room all day.

Ashley knocked on the door, bringing Amy out of her thought process. She set her computer between her and Ricky as she sat up. Ashley handed her a bowl of ice cream, which she gladly accepted.

"I figured you might be hungry," she spoke softly.

Amy shrugged. "Not really. But I have to eat, right?"

Ashley nodded. "Ricky…said you told him."

Amy shrugged, looking down at him. "He kindof…figured it out."

Ashley sat down next to her. "But you didn't tell him about-" She stopped speaking as Amy shook her head.

"No." Amy shook her head as she looked over at Ashley. "I don't…I couldn't lie anymore. I can't lie to him; he knows too much about what its like."

Ashley nodded. "I know. Its why its so easy to talk to him."

Amy looked at her, squeezing her hand. "He'll figure it out about you too. I know you hide behind your anger, but he's one of the best liars there is about it too."

"I wake up after a halfhour of sleeping, you know. I can hear everything you're saying."

Amy jumped, turning around. "I'm sorry-"

Ricky shook his head, sitting up slowly. "I knew. I knew, but I didn't say anything because I figured you'd tell someone in your own time. But I couldn't be a parent and let **you** lie to me," he spoke softly, looking Amy and Ashley clearly in the eyes. Ashley looked down shaking her head.

"You can't tell our parents. We never told, and I don't want to," Ashley spoke.

Ricky scooted over, pulling Amy against him and rubbing her arms. She bit her bottom lip, not caring about the scab inside her mouth. "I'm sorry, I can't hold it together."

Ricky shook his head. "You don't have to. Don't think y0u have to hide in front of me, because you don't. You're safe."

Amy looked up at him, shaking her head. "But you're not."

Ricky shrugged. "They'll catch Bob eventually, and even so, I'm used to it. I've been in this position before, and I know how to handle it."

Amy nuzzled her face into his chest, breathing in the scent of his Axe body wash. "I'm exhausted."

"So go to sleep," he shushed her, covering her with the blanket already covering him.

Ashley looked down at the floor, shaking her head. "I never thought things could get this screwed up…"

Ricky looked back up at her, nodding. "I used to think the same thing. But things never got better."

Ashley looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Your optimism is killing me. Really."

Ricky shrugged. "Sorry. I'm right back where you are right now so I can't even….I can't go there." He shook his head, looking down at the floor. "I can't be fake anymore, about it. It hurts, all the time, and its like being cut from the inside out, and there are things I might never tell anyone but Amy…There are things I can't say…"

Ashley nodded, looking up at him. "Well Amy and I have our secrets. Things our parents don't know."

Ricky wiped some of the hair out of Amy's face, smiling at her sleeping form. "I always wondered how something so graceful could come from someone so badly hurt."

Ashley rolled her eyes, but a smile was evident on her face. "You two are sickening, you know that? You always have been."

Ricky shook his head at her. "No one said you had to watch."

Ashley laughed. "You're right I guess… Then again, its kinda hard for anyone **not **to watch you two. You kind of tend to draw attention to yourselves." She smirked at him.

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Well you saying that says we **make** people watch us now."

"Whatever. I'm going to bed. Good night." She stood and walked out of the room, shaking her head at him the entire time.

Ricky couldn't help but smile as she walked out. Amy and Ashley in one body would have made one hell of a person, in his book. "Night," he mumbled to himself. "It might be night, but it won't be a good one." He shifted, laying down with Amy still laying on him. He ran his fingers through her hair once, brushing his fingers up and down her back…


	7. Never, Not Ever, Again

A/N: No one asked/forced/paid you to read this story. So if you don't like it or you don't have CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, you can click that little hotlink back to the main tslotat page.

That said, I love my reviewers. Sorry I've taken so long to post this. I won't take 3 months to post next time. In the meantime, I know some of you have been checking out my new story, Ice. That's what's been taking up most of my time ;P

_Chapter 7:_

_Never, Not Ever, Again_

Ricky fussed with this shorts as he shifted his leg in the wheelchair. It was lunch, and their first back day at school. Of course, no one wanted to leave them alone. Everyone was asking them how John was, and asking Ricky if he was okay. They'd also already head a run-in with Bob, when they left the house that morning. It was hardly starting off as a good day.

Amy pushed the salad around in her bowl again, shaking her head. "I don't want this. I'm not hungry."

Ricky shook his head, grabbing a piece of lettuce between his thumb and forefinger, chewing it. "Its not that bad."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "So you eat it. You need it more than I do anyway."

Ricky shook his head at her, pushing his hamburger across the table. "Only if you eat this. You need to eat."

Amy shrugged, picking it up and chewing a bit out of it." Happy?" She couldn't help but laugh as bits of bread shot out of her mouth. Ricky shook his head at her, laughing as well.

"Yes. Now you finish that burger and I'll eat this salad." He smirked as he picked up her fork and stabbed into the lettuce. Amy jumped, looking up at him as he froze.

_Everything hurt; it was too hard to move without feeling pain, but it only got worse when he opened his eyes. Bob threw his head to the floor hard, but that wasn't the worst of it as he brought a knife high above Ricky's head. _

_Ricky reached up to stop him, screaming as it pierced his hand, but kept moving until the knife connected with his chest, and cut all the way down to his side..._

Amy bit her lip as she saw the glazed look in his eyes. She knew not to try and bring him out of it, but seeing him go through this wasn't any easier. She was sure it probably had something to do with being stabbed or cut, but she knew all too well was seeing him through one of these was like. He'd barely slept at all in the last few days.

He looked up at her, very alert for a second, until he realized what had happened. "Sorry."

Amy shrugged. "Its okay. Are you?"

Ricky shrugged. "I guess I know how I got the seatbelt cut across my torso. That's about it."

Amy sighed, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand. "I'm sorry. Do you just want to go?"

He shrugged. "We've missed two weeks of school. We can't miss anymore unless we want to be in summer school. And neither of us can afford that because now we have John."

Amy nodded, knowing he was right. Still, a part of her wanted to be with her son at home instead of being here. Everything felt so...meaningless ever since she'd had him. Sure, part of it had to do with what Bob had done to Ricky, but it also had to do with the fact that being away from John made her heart hurt. She'd been told by her mother that she'd probably feel that way, but unlike other people, she hadn't gotten maternity leave. High school mothers didn't get that; she knew all too well.

"Hey? Where's your head gone off to," Ricky shook her lightly, shifting his wheelchair.

Amy looked up at him, shrugging. "I was just thinking about John. I miss him."

Ricky nodded, smiling. "I miss him too." He looked down at he bowl for a minute before looking up at her. "Guess what?"

Amy looked up at him, confused. "What?"

"Wanna go get coffee after this," he teased.

"NO!" She couldn't help but laugh at his comment, even though she practically screamed no. "No coffee. No coffee for a long, long time."

Ricky smirked, holding his sides as he laughed at her reaction, even though it hurt him. "That was so worth it."

"What was so worth it," Grace asked as she and Jack sat down at the table. Amy and Ricky looked each other confused and then shrugged, turning to Grace. "Just something that has to do with how John came to be."

Amy blushed a deep shade of red, as did Grace, while Ricky laughed again, getting too much joy out of embarrassing his girlfriend.

"Alright Mr. Just Stay A Few More Minutes. You've had your fun." Amy crossed her arms at him, but she couldn't help still smiling.

Ricky smiled, shaking his head. "I never said you had to."

Amy shook her head at him, running her fingers through her hair. "Keep pushing me and I'll make sure the doctor puts two casts on today," she teased.

Ricky rolled his eyes. "Like you could even muster the strength." He laughed; just as the words left his mouth, Amy yawned heavily. She stuck her tongue out at him and he jumped at the chance, pushing himself across the table, to her lips. Amy gaped, but kissed him back, not able to keep herself from laughing at his childishness. As he pulled back, he smiled at her. "Just breathe."

Amy rolled her eyes, brushing her fingers through her bangs as she took another bite out of her burger. "Um, we've got eavesdroppers," she bit her bottom lip as her eyes dropped to the table.

Ricky looked over, seeing Ben glaring at them with a look he could only assume was hate. He rolled his eyes and moved the wheelchair back from the table. "I'll be right back."

Amy shook her head, grabbing one of the left arm of his chair. "Don't. He'll just cause trouble."

Ricky shook his head. "This needs to end. He's shown up every day in the last two weeks just to bug you. It needs to stop right now." He gently removed her hand from his chair, wheeling it over to the table Ben had sat down at.

Before he could say anything though, Ben cut him off. "Look, I've been trying to get Amy to let me talk to you ever since John was born-"

Ricky shook his head. "Clearly you went about it the wrong damn way then. Because calling my son an 'oops?' is not the way to get on my good side. Especially when someone tried to kill me, damn it."

Ben gulped, nodding. "Look, I get it. I just... I saw the way things changed between you and Amy so fast, and I got jealous. REALLY jealous. Y'know you were an ass for most of this year. You only started changing in the last few months, and....well, that's not really fair."

Ricky nodded. "You're right. That's not really fair. But then again, that's life, and life isn't fair; I should know. So you should suck it up and deal, because things happen for a reason."

Ben raised an eyebrow at him. "You really believe that? After all you've lived through? That things happen for a reason?"

Ricky shrugged. "I'm not sure what I really believe anymore. I live inside a hell that you can't even begin to imagine."

Ben nodded again. "I get it. I don't understand it, but I get what you mean. I just...I want us to be friends. I want us to be able to get along so that Amy and I can still be friends."

Ricky raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you ever really friends, Ben?" I mean you never knew her before you decided she was the 'starting point' for you." Ricky smirked as Ben raised an eye brow at him. "Yknow, just like milli and vanilli can't keep their mouth shut, they hear things from Alice and Henry too. And they told Amy who told me about you just using her to get to Grace."

Ben sighed. "You're right. I did say that. But that was before I was with Amy; before I even dated Amy, or even loved Amy. I still do."

Ricky shook his head. "Well you'll have get past that because Amy and **I** love each other. And more than that, Amy's finally getting happy. She's finally feeling things in a way she hadn't opened herself up to in almost a year. No one is going to take that away from her. She's a new mother and she's not going to have something that supposed to be such a rewarding time in her life, taken away from her."

Ben nodded. "I get it. I'm not going to get between you two anyway. I don't want to be in that position again." He paused for a minute, seeing Ricky's face drop as he looked away. "Did I say something wrong?"

Ricky shrugged, squinting as he looked into the glare of the sun. "Something my mom once said."

Ben nodded again. He didn't know much about Ricky; definitely not as much as Amy. He only knew the basics that everyone in the school knew. "Sorry."

Ricky shrugged. "Don't be. Its not worth it to be sorry." He wheeled his chair back. "Just... Amy needs time. We're both still trying to cope with everything. Leave her alone for a few days, and don't look so angry. We'll come to you when we're ready. In the meantime, just stay away."

That was all he said before he turned the wheels, pushing himself back over to where Amy was finishing his burger while Jack and Grace were fully fledged into some story. He smiled as he shifted his chair back into the table, going back to picking at Amy's salad while he caught the tail end of the story.

"...and now the church is making me work it off in 200 hours of community service. I guess I can't blame them. Could've burn the place down, after all," Jack finished.

Ricky raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll tell you later."

Amy laughed, shaking her head. "It involves a nurf football, s'mores and some very expensive lingerie."

Ricky nodded skeptically to the story, very confused. "Alrighty then..." He trailed off, feeling his stomach churn in a way that told him even this salad wasn't going to last very long. He pushed the wheelchair back. "I'll see you in media," he spoke softly to Amy, adjusting his backpack on the arms of the wheelchair.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I just need to go to the bathroom. I'll manage."

She nodded slowly at him, wondering if there was something more too it, but she dropped it. "Okay."

She watched him roll away and couldn't help but let out a heavy breath as she watched him. she knew there was more going on than he was letting on, but he didn't really share much with anyone these days besides her, and she was even beginning to wonder if he wasn't hiding from her as well. She never really knew anymore.

_-----------_

_cause I'm alright,_

_yeah, yeah,_

_and I don't mind,_

_yeah yeah_

_-----------_

Ricky heaved into the porcelain bowl, shaking as his stomach stayed tight even after there was nothing left to give back. His head was spinning and he felt sicker than a dog, not even considering his leg bent out under him. He'd barely made it into the handicapped stall before everything came flying up his throat, with flecks of blood spatter in his vomit.

His body hurt and he just wanted to sleep, but he still had two more classes to get through before he could even think about leaving. He needed to get this done and get through the day.

He rested his head against the toilet, hearing the bell ring, signaling that lunch was over. He would have a little more than five minutes to get to the elevator and down to the basement where Media was. His head swirled though, in the dizziness of the way he felt, and how sick he was physically. Coming to school had been a big mistake on his part, and he knew it. He was still having residual bleeding from the cut across his body, and terrible aches from a beating he'd taken almost a month ago. He was physically exhausted in every from.

A knock came at the door and he breathed heavily, pushing himself up from the floor with his elbows. Someone slipped a card between the door and wall, and flipped the lock-lever over, opening the door. He groaned, seeing that it was Coach.

"A few freshmen said they heard someone throwing up. I came to investigate," he explained.

Ricky shrugged, still trying to push himself up from the floor. Instead he simply dropped back against it.

Coach walked over to him, lifting him into the chair with precision and ease, like it was nothing to him. "While I admire your determination to avoid summer school, you should still be resting. You were in critical condition after all this happened to you, and you need to be taking time to recuperate. You're going to kill yourself doing this."

Ricky shrugged, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Its two more hours. I can take it."

Coach shook his head. "No. I'm calling the Juergens and you're leaving. You're obviously running a fever and you need to go to the hospital. Blood in vomit is not normal."

Ricky glared at him, forcing his head to hold up. "It is for me. Deal with it. I'll be fine, just let me go to my last two classes."

Coach recognized begging, and though he would normally tell a student NOT to go home, this was a unique situation. "No, Ricky. Go home, and come back in a few weeks. Principle Turner and I have been talking about working out something so you can do your work from home and still get your credits. We're recognizing that you're still trying, and your not being in school has to do with your health, not laziness or fear." He paused, pushing Ricky into the elevator. "Now when we get back upstairs, I'm going to call the Juergens, and then you're going to go home and rest."

Ricky didn't fight him, too exhausted to even say a word.

The elevator dinged and Coach pushed him into the counselors office and then rounded the table as he picked up the phone. Both Amy and Ricky's files were already laying on the desk, open and waiting to be read. Coach began dialing the number, trying to ignore the bustling of kids past the door as they were running off to their second-last class of the day.

The phone began to ring, and at the same time, Ben, Henry, and Alice passed the room, only for Ben to turn back around a minute later. He popped his head in the room only for a second, and then walked back the other way. Coach raised an eyebrow at him, confused, but didn't press the issue as someone picked up the phone on the other end of the line.

He began talking, but Ricky's exhaustion simply made it sound like he was talking through in a tunnel. He forced himself to wake up however, as he felt the familiarity of Amy's hand on his, shaking him awake. He looked up at her wearily, rubbing his eyes. "Hmm?"

"What's wrong," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. She turned to Coach as he began to speak, she assumed to her mother. Her suspicions were confirmed as he said her mother's name.

Ricky shrugged. "Couldn't keep my lunch down. Everything hurts. Nothing new," he spoke softly.

Amy nodded, biting the side of her lip. "I'll get your homework," she questioned, though it came out more as a statement. She looked back at Coach, who was already mid-way through her late pass. He nodded at her, and she sighed, squeezing Ricky's hand lightly. "I have to go. I'll see you after work." She kissed the side of his head and stood, grabbing her pass from Coach, and walking out of the room.

Amy crossed the hallway to her locker, opening it and grabbing the text book she would need for the class after Media.

Ricky on the other hand, was trying to stay awake in his chair, but the more he tried to it seemed, the more tired he felt. Everything faded around him more and more until everything was black.

When they faded back in, it was because of the cold air hitting his skin. He lifted his head to the best of his ability to see that he was in the Juergens' car. Anne looked over at him, surprised to see him awake. "George is at work, so I'm gonna need you to stay awake and help me getting you into the house."

Ricky nodded wearily, resting his head against the head rest. The radio crackling was irritating him, but his arm was too sore to reach out and change the station, so instead the song continued to play.

"You better run, run, run, run, run

Cause there's gonna be some hell to pay

You better run, run, run, run, run

That's the only thing I'm gonna say,

I wish I'd known right from the start

that I was dancing with the dark

You better run, run, run, run,

Run, Devil, Run,

Run Devil, Run, Run

Run, Devil, Devil, Run, Run..."

Anne reached up, switching the radio off as her cell phone rang. Ricky looked up at her once again, but only for a brief moment before he rested his head back against the head rest. It wasn't until they reached the house that he sat up again, and it was only because the car jerked. He refrained from saying anything, simply pushing the passenger door open and pushing himself out. He searched the backseat for a moment before he located his crutches and pulled them out, using them to hobble into the house. Getting the front door open was a different story, but he managed, not turning back or paying attention as he made his way towards the staircase.

It was all he could do to not trip on each stair, but he managed to make it to the top, and settled them against the wall. He used his own weight to hop into Amy's room. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

----

Heaven knows that it's a crazy ride

Its never perfect all the time

----

"Ricky?"

He groaned, trying to stay asleep even with the pain of his shoulder being shook, radiating through his body. "Five more minutes."

"Its almost 11 PM. Please."

He turned only slightly, but far enough to see Amy hovering over him. "Hmm?"

She settled on her butt, pulling her legs out from under her. "I know you're sick, but we need to talk."

Ricky sighed and turned his face back into the pillow, taking a few deep breaths before he rolled onto his back. "What's up?"

Amy shrugged, picking at her cuticles. "I just...I wanted to talk to you."

Ricky sat up, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm sorry I slept all day. You can still talk to me."

Amy shook her head. "I don't want to be a burden. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He pulled her foot, smiling. "You're lying. I'm fine. No sicker or healthier than usual, but I'll live."

Amy bit her bottom lip, pulling her foot away, and her knee up to her chest. "I just need some normalcy. Let me help you."

Ricky huffed. "I don't need help right now, Amy. I need a one-way ticket out of my brain and for now, that's you. So can you do that much for me?"

Amy shook her head again. "I don't want to talk about me." She exhaled heavily, running her fingers through her hair. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm not. I'm exhausted, but I'm always exhausted these days, so it doesn't really matter," he insisted. "Just talk to me. Did you need help with homework?"

Amy shook her head. "No. I have a paper to write but that's about it. I'll work on it tomorrow in study."

"Paper about what," he asked curiously.

Amy sighed heavily. "Nothing new. What family life is like. She asked me specially to write about John and how I feel about being a parent."

Ricky nodded, stuffing a pillow behind his back as he sat up fully. He wasn't sure how, but some how someone had dressed him into track pants and a grey t-shirt. "Who dressed me?"

Amy giggled softly, biting both of her lips as she tried to stifle it.

"What?" He dragged the word out, honestly confused at her laughter.

She shook her head, covering her face. Her laughter however, quickly turned into sobs. Ricky's demeanor quickly changed, suddenly frustrated that he couldn't get down to her. He knew all to well what it was like to go from one emotion to its polar opposite just because of the stress of everything going on.

"I need you to come up here. I can't move down by you," he spoke softly. The fact that he couldn't get to her was infuriating. He should've been able to go to her.

Amy shook her head, pulling her other leg up and burying her face between her knees. She was sure losing it probably wasn't the best way to be selling her story that she was fine. Still, she had to be able to feel some time.

Ricky forced himself up off the bed and used the frame to make his way around to the foot of it. He sat down next to her and gently wrapped his arms around her. She tensed up, but rested her head against his shoulder anyway. "I can't handle all of this," she sobbed, gasping after each word.

Ricky tried to shush her, rubbing her back as best he could. "I know. I don't know how to, either."


End file.
